To Love and Protect
by whitereflections12
Summary: CarlisleEsme This story begins in 1919, with Carlisle coming back just to check up on the woman he can't forget. Leaving her alone becomes almost impossible, however, when he sees just how her life has turned out.
1. Just Checking

Alright! Here goes…my first official Twilight multi-chapter story. Because I may be continuing Proposal(I'm thinking I will), but that wasn't planned. This, however, has been, and I'm very excited about it.

The idea for this came to me when I was thinking about what Edward told Bella at the end of New Moon, how he had planned to come back and check on her, and if he had found her alright, he'd like to think that he could have left again. Well, it got me thinking…we all know how Carlisle met Esme, and that she caught his eye then, but he was moving on, she was human, etc. And he told himself that she had a happy life from that point on, an assumption that was shattered when she jumped. But what if he had been just a little less strong, just a little more curious? He might have come back to check on her, just to make sure she was as happy as he was telling himself. And if he'd found her with an abusive husband….

And I'll say no more. Because this is that story. : )

Don't own anyone. But I want my Carlisle.

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**Carlisle**

I told myself that I was doing this just to put my mind at ease. I'd though it over, so many times that I actually believed that. And maybe it was even true. I just couldn't stop thinking of her, and somehow it was no longer enough to allow myself to spend an hour or two each day imagining how well things had turned out for her. I wanted to see it with my own eyes. Maybe part of it was just me wanting to see her again, yes. That could be true. Maybe part of it was masochistic. If she was married now, as I was certain she would be, maybe the piece of myself inside that craved her would shut up. Or maybe he'd wail louder, how should I know? I had never felt like this for anyone before.

Ironic, that. I had always thought if I found someone, it would be one of our kind. This…this just couldn't work. But I could check, at least. That didn't hurt anyone. Just look in on her, make sure she was happy. Of course she'd be happy. I could look, and then I could be on my way. I could-

"Yes, Carlisle, we have already established that you're just looking. How many times are you going to tell yourself that? It's driving me mad." Edward rolled his eyes, hands tightening on the steering wheel. Our Ford whined as he pressed down on the gas.

"Not so fast, Edward, the car can't take it. Remember what happened to the last one." The first Model T I had let him drive, and it had died on us the middle of nowhere. Not really a problem, but people did get suspicious when you weren't terribly upset about a broken down car. The 1919 model was a little sturdier than some of the earlier ones, but still…he could definitely push it too far.

"The car's fine. Now are your sure about this, Carlisle? You've only reassured yourself a hundred times. Which means I have to wonder if you're so certain that you really are going to just walk in and walk out."

Of course I was. What else could I do? No, Edward, don't answer that. He chuckled, and I was glad. His moods were so hit and miss. He was usually either perfectly content or rock-bottom depressed. I hated those days, and I know he did too. But it was different for me. He was my son, now. I worried about him.

"I'm alright. Not thirsty today, anyway." The way he said it was still moody, but he was smiling. It seemed that for now at least, he really was alright. Even for all the ups and downs, I was never sorry I had changed him. We fought rarely, and never for long. We fit well, as a family. He smiled, and I knew that he agreed, but that that was all the confirmation I would get for now. It was enough.

The car slowed as we pulled into town, his eyes scanning the buildings on either side. "Where is it you're planning on starting your search? If she's as beautiful as she is in your memories, she's probably living here now, downtown. Some rich man's wife." I tensed, my breath coming sharper before I calmed it. That would be wonderful, if that were the case. She could have everything she wanted then. Yes, it would be perfect.

Edward snorted. "Oh please. You can fool yourself if you like, but don't force that on me. I don't believe it for a moment. You'll want to rip him to shreds." I would ne- "Yes, even you."

Hm. I scanned the opposite side of the street, resolutely not thinking about the conversation. Edward would be impossible if I acknowledged how much he might slightly be right. Even thinking it briefly I was sure had him grinning. I didn't turn around to check.

The town had changed in the years I'd been gone, of course. There were more shops downtown, more cars on the street. Still, it wasn't a very large town. Shouldn't be too difficult.

"And I ask again, where would you like to start?" He slowed further, drummed his fingers on the wheel impatiently.

I sighed. I didn't know what I was doing, and much as I loved Edward, at the moment he was driving me crazy. He chuckled. "Just let me out here. Go…wherever you want. I'll meet you later." I'd take off walking, calm my nerves a bit. And there was no cohesive plan to this, none whatsoever. I'd just be hoping to run into her scent somewhere, and to not run into anyone else who might recognize me. Ah. Stupid, reckless. I hadn't even thought of that until now. Perhaps it would be better to wait for the cover of darkness…. Something inside me snarled, reminded me that I couldn't speak to her then. I probably shouldn't speak to her anyway. Just look. I pulled the door open and climbed out before I could change my mind, throwing a wave back for Edward before slipping close to the buildings on the inside of the sidewalk. It was late afternoon, most people were probably heading home for dinner. There was a steady flow of people but it was slow and somewhat sparse. I was foolish. The odds of running into her tonight were slim.

I passed the buildings at a moderate human speed, ticking them off in my head as I did. Post office. Grocery. Clothing. This was ridiculous. I was crazy. Insane. Reckless. I wondered idly what Edward was doing. He was still young, being in the city was hard for him. Now that I realized just how little of a plan I had, I began to regret bringing him here. This was an unnecessary hardship to put on him.

I turned left and off the main street, into a park. It was quieter here, dimmer due to the overhanging trees. There were songbirds singing, and it reminded me again that there were so many things I hadn't studied. It would have been nice to be able to pick them out by song. As soon as I found a good book on the subject, I'd add it to our library. There was a pond in the center of the park, and I soon found my way to it.

It was then, reaching out to lean on the wrought iron railing, that I caught her scent. At first, I thought I was imagining things. My brain had been working too hard to pick her out of the air, and now it was telling me what I wanted to hear. I drew in a deep breath, and no, there was no mistaking it this time. No mistaking the way my muscles tightened, my head felt light…she smelled as good as I remembered, but it didn't make me thirsty. Hungry, perhaps, but not in…that sense. My eyes whipped side to side, scanning the park. The scent was fresh, close, wafted toward me on the breeze. She was very nearby, she had to be.

Ah, there! On a bench, on the other side of the circle. My breath stopped when I caught sight of her. She looked the picture of a lady, right leg crossed over her left, head tilted to look down at a book in her left hand, hair tucked back behind her right ear. Yes, she was every bit as beautiful as I knew she would grow to be. And yes, she wore a wedding right on her left hand. I groaned, 

internally, even as I told myself that this was good news. What was I thinking? It wasn't as if _I_ could have had her. As if I could have been her husband. Her husband. For the first time in over a century, the fierce desire to be human clawed at me so harshly it was a physical pain. If I were man, the one that put that ring on her finger could have been me. I could see, in that moment, how it would have gone. A doctor, that was a rich profession, especially in these times. I would have asked for her hand, her parents would have gladly consented. No obstacles. It would have been easy, even. I could have made her happy, I was sure of that. We had had such a connection, even in the short time we had known each other…

I swallowed hard, shoved the thoughts back. They did no good. I could no more become human than a fish could suddenly decide to fly by force of will. There were some things just not meant to be. _There. You've had your look, you've gotten it out of your system. Accept it, and move on._ Easier said than done. She shifted, and I could hear the fabric of her dress ruffle. My hands tightened on the railing, and I barely stopped myself before leaving my fingerprints. And to think I had been lecturing Edward on control. What was I going to do? Stand here until she left? Follow her home? I had tried leaving, as soon as I thought of it. My feet seemed bolted to the ground, or at least heavier than I could find the strength to lift. Esme. Esme Platt. What was her name now? Even the thought brought on another wave of mixed yearning, anger, and revulsion. I shoved it away.

Well, if I was leaving, I could at least not stand here, staring at her like a mad man. She hadn't noticed, but it was only a matter of time before someone else did. I could…I could speak to her. It could do no real harm, could it? She had been 16 when we had met last, surely she wouldn't remember EXACTLY how I looked. And I shouldn't have aged too terribly much since that time, anyway. Foolish. Stupid. She probably wouldn't even remember me. But, perhaps, that would be a good thing. If she didn't know me, that would confirm what I already knew. She was so much better of this way, without me in her life. Yes. It would be easier, then, to leave her, to move on. Or so I told myself.

With a deep breath I pulled myself out of my statue-like pose, moving at a measured walk around the circle. My feet seemed to work fine when they were headed in her direction rather than away. She turned a page on her book, and I caught a few of the words. She was reading Lord Byron. Excellent poet, and a very interesting choice. Young women were so often discouraged from reading, but then the Esme I had known had certainly been a rebel. The thought brought a smile to my lips, and I relaxed a little. This would be easy, just hello. That would be all. She looked up as I approached. It was hard to remember that I need to keep up the pretense of breathing. Her eyes were a stunning jade green, just as I had remembered, if perhaps a little dimmer. But I didn't have time to wonder at the change. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but she beat me to it.

"Good evening."

"And to you." My mouth felt suddenly dry, my mind racing. I had to keep up the human pretense. I was a doctor, I wouldn't remember every patient by name. Not a human doctor, anyway. "Have we met?"

She smiled, but it was a ghost of what I expected. "A few years ago, yes. I was 16, had a run in with the ground after climbing an old oak."

I nodded and smiled, as if I were just making the connection. "Ah yes, I remember. Your leg was broken. Esme, was it?" As soon as it was out, I mentally slapped myself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I almost certainly shouldn't have remembered her name.

But, thankfully, she didn't pause. "Yes. You remember." The idea didn't seem to bother her, so I just smiled. "Good to see you again, Dr.Cullen."

"And you." Hesitantly, I took a seat next to her on the bench. "Climbing any trees these days?"

She laughed, soft and beautiful. "No, I'm afraid not. It's considered improper behavior for a woman my age to be climbing trees."

"I thought it was improper before." I met her eyes, and there was a brief instance of the spark I remembered in them before they dimmed again.

"It was. But I did it anyway." There was a wistful tone to her voice then, as if mourning something she had lost. I could imagine rich men's wives really couldn't spend too much time out of doors alone. This was probably all she had, and here I was disrupting it.

"Nothing wrong with a little non-conventional behavior every now and then. It's good for you."

"You're the first doctor to say so, at least that I've heard."

"Perhaps I am the minority." In the silence, a bird called louder than the others. Nightingale, I think. I really did need to learn those. "Did you ever make it west?" And I mentally berated myself again. How stupid, how reckless could I be? We had spent a good amount of time talking, it was true. But I probably shouldn't have remembered her dreams. Besides, I knew the answer even before she spoke it.

"No, I didn't." Her tone was even darker, more listless. "My family didn't approve, and there were…other things to consider. There was suitor of the perfect age and family, and of course, any career of my own to be put on hold."

My temper flared and I forced it into submission. Mostly. A small, angry voice growled at me that she should have to submit to no one. Yes. I already knew that. But that wasn't the way things were. "Congratulations then, on your wedding. It sounds like a very good match." I smiled for her, as much as I could muster. It shocked me when it was her own smile, not mine, that faltered. Her eyes looked, if anything, even dimmer. Even…frightened.

But she covered it quickly. "Yes, thank you. You must forgive me, Charles has been away at the war. He only came home yesterday. It's hard to adjust to not worrying about him anymore." And she delivered the lie very well, and a human might have fallen for it. But I didn't. I had seen the fear in her eyes, and it didn't look like worry. Nor was the way her hands had tightened on her book when she said his name, the way her eyes had darted to the side. As if she expected him to come around the corner at any minute.

"We are all truly indebted to those brave men who served our country." It escaped my lips in a soft murmur, an absentminded continuation of the conversation. My thoughts were still tied up analyzing her reactions.

She nodded, slightly, eyes downcast. "Yes. Yes he's very brave." It seemed for a moment, her hands shook. In any case, her grip on the book lightened, and I was very glad I was focusing on the distracting puzzle of her hands, otherwise it would have been hard not to reflexively catch it and give myself away. As it was, we both reached for it, her hand sliding down just before mine.

"No, allow me." Blushing, she pulled her hand back, let me pick it up for her. I dusted the dirt off of the cover before holding it out to her, and she took it in the same hand she had reached for it with. Something I noticed, because in reaching her sleeve had pulled away from the soft, grey gloves she wore, and a caught a glimpse of a very evident dark purple bruise just above her wrist.

She must have seen the alarm in my eyes, for she pulled her sleeve down quickly then. "Thank you. I'm sorry, but I must be getting home. Charles will be there soon, and I believe we're going out to meet some friends. If you'll excuse me."

"Yes, certainly."

"Good day, Dr.Cullen."

"Yes, good day." I hardly watched her leave. My mind was elsewhere, on the brief glimpse of her skin. A human wouldn't have, couldn't have caught it. It was only visible a second, maybe two. But I wasn't human, and I had. And what I had seen made me sick, sick enough that I could feel the iron of the bench's armrest crack under my hand.

That wasn't just a bruise. It was a handprint.

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Poor Carlisle, having to see that. :pats him:

Hmm, what'll he do now? I haven't the faintest idea….. ; ) jk

Reviews, oh how I love you….


	2. Going Home

Nope. Don't own any of them. Or Byron's works, which I borrow a little bit of.

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**Esme**

My heart was pounding so hard in my chest I was certain I could hear it hammering. I could feel it, certainly, beating powerfully against my ribcage, blood pumping rapidly through my veins. I had found the way back to the house by force of habit alone. My mind was still in the park, still staring in awe at what I was still only half certain wasn't a mirage.

Because I had dreamed of that man almost every night for about 7 years now, probably closer to 8. Actually seeing him again seemed impossibly unreal. But at the same time, I knew it had been. Because even the memory I had carefully guarded had never truly done him justice. That much had been clear, looking at him again. His eyes were a more beautiful butterscotch, the most limitless gold. His hair was a semi-disheveled dirty blonde, a little less perfectly kept than most men. His skin had gleamed softly in the fading light, so perfectly pale, like a king. Or an angel, which was how I had always referred to him in my imagination. My angel. And his voice…I had tried to remember it, but that memory had clearly slipped even more than the memory of his perfect face. His voice was smooth as ice, soft as velvet, as easy flowing as a stream. There was nothing about him that wasn't perfect, nothing.

It was that very perfection that I had been unable to get out of my head. I hadn't really wanted to, but it would have been nice at times. Like in the beginning, when my family wanted desperately for me to notice Charles. He was handsome, and had I never met Carlisle, I probably would have been enamored of him. Initially. But I had met Carlisle, had done more than that. I had spent a few hours in his company, and that even more than his perfect appearance had forever clinched my fate. I could never love another man, not when I loved one man so fully, so entirely. It wasn't just his looks. If it had been that, I doubted very much that I would have fallen in love with him. No, he was all angel. The kindest, warmest, gentlest man I had ever known. Or would ever know, I was certain. There was no one like Carlisle.

I supposed that it didn't really matter very much. After all, even if I had been able to fall in love with Charles, I would have only been more hurt after the wedding, when I found out the truth. Things were better this way, honestly. If you could call any part of this situation better in any form, that was. I had a hard time doing that.

I hadn't yet decided whether seeing him again had been a blessing or a curse. It had been enough, at least, to interrupt my train of thought, to at least stall my plans if nothing else. The beating Charles had given me last night had been terrible, the rape even worse. All of it worse, because I had had the time without him to adjust to normal life again. I could hardly stomach the thought of returning to that life, though I didn't know where else to turn.

Those thoughts had led me to the park, where I had sat reading ,

_So we'll go no more a-roving_

_So late into the night_

_Though the heart be still as loving_

_And the moon be still as bright_

Reading, and contemplating how much it would hurt to jump from the highest cliff over the quarry. Or if it would even have time to hurt at all. It was sounding better and better. At that point, I had looked down and seen a man's shoes on the ground before me, and for a moment I had been terrified that Charles had come to find me. Instead, imagine the shock when I looked up into the eyes of my angel, the one man I thought I'd never see again and yet was always looking for. Dr. Carlisle Cullen.

Leaving, I had been too distracted to remember that I had pretty much decided on jumping. And now, I was back at the door of our house. The lights were on the dining room, and I knew Betty would be in there, setting the table for supper. Charles was probably in his study. If I moved quietly, I might could reach my room before he asked where I'd been. If I was lucky, that was.

Taking a deep breath to still the shaking of my hands, I reached out and grabbed the handle, turning it cautiously to make as little noise as possible. We never latched it until after dark, something for which I was very thankful. There was no need, in this little town. Betty looked up as I slipped in the door. She tipped her head slightly, mouthed 'the master's upstairs'. I nodded, mouthed a thank you in return, and tried in vain to calm the frantic beating of my heart as I began to navigate the stairs. I travelled on the inside, closest to the wall. The other side had a tendency to squeak. I held my breath almost all the way up, not trusting it not to give me away. The stairs ended and I was on the landing, then around the corner and in my room and I could breathe again. It came out in a long shuddering sigh. I was fairly certain his study door had been closed. I was safe, for now. I was-

My eyes came up to the mirror over my dresser, and a shock of fear settled in my stomach as I saw what was reflected behind me. He towered over me, his eyes dark and impossibly cold. "Where have you been, Esme?"

My mouth was dry, my hands shaking. I could definitely hear my heart now, and it sounded close to exploding. "I went for a walk, in the park. It's a very nice evening. Perhaps tomorrow you could-"

His hand clamping down a vise on my shoulder cut me off, and he spun me around to face him, gripped my other shoulder, shook me. "Liar! Who is it, you little whore? Who is he?"

"N-no one. There's no one, I swear it Charles. I was true to you while you were gone." Not by choice so much as by lack of options. Carlisle had been gone. And he would have never wanted me anyway.

He raised his hand and I flinched back, my eyes closing. He rarely ever struck my face, because then I couldn't go out in public for days. Sometimes, though, when he was mad enough… But no, he slapped the book out of my hand instead. It hit the floor with a thud and I stood stock still as he bent to pick it up. And prepared for the next blow, because it was sure to be harder as soon as he realized what I was reading.

"Why do you read this trash, Esme? Those poets are nothing but a bunch of immoral scum. Is it because it reminds you of yourself, hm? Of how you'd behave if I wasn't here to keep you in line?"

It did no good to answer, really. He was going to hit me anyway. I could have launched into the Gettysburg Address for all it mattered. And right on cue, his fist connected with my shoulder and I staggered back, but not far enough to miss the other blow, the corner of the book to my side of my neck. Well, I'd be wearing a high collar shirt tomorrow, at least. I fought back the pain, fought to remain standing, to breathe evenly. It was worse when I cried, worse when he knew how much it hurt. I had learned to be strong. My eyes remained closed, my focus only on his breathing. Like an enraged bull.

The sound of heavy footsteps and the slamming of the door told me he had left, that it was ok to crumple to the floor and bury my head in my arms, that it was ok to let the tears fall. My neck was throbbing terribly, but it was nothing to the wrenching pain in my shoulder. The left. He had hurt it the night before too, which was why today's abuse had made it hurt all the more. It wasn't so bad, though. Maybe now he'd leave me alone for the rest of the night. Maybe I could at least sleep in peace.

It was awhile before I realized I was shivering, and I stood with some effort, wincing at the pain it caused to maneuver my dress off. I stripped completely, stepped to my dresser and lit a candle in the darkness. It wasn't much light, but its flickering flame made me visible in the mirror. The bruises didn't look so bad like this, in the shadows. Still, they looked bad enough. I pulled the bowl of water on top toward me, rung the rag out to press it to the bruise on the side of my neck. I hissed at the strange mixture of pain and relief the cold cloth brought, and I held it there until it was warm. Slowly, mechanically, I pulled a gown from the second drawer down and tugged it over my head as gently as I could. The movement of my shoulder was still agony, and another few tears slipped from my eyes.

Sliding into bed provided some measure of relief, if only because I could again stop moving, and the pillows were more comfortable than the hardwood floor. I closed my eyes, lay my head back against the headboard. I could hear Charles downstairs, laughing with our neighbor about something in the papers. I could hear the clock in the hall ticking. I could hear Betty in the kitchen, washing the dishes. If Charles went to bed early, she'd try to bring me a plate up. Sometimes, she didn't get the chance. Usually I was hungry enough to care, but not today. Today, I didn't much care if I ever ate again. Although if that was what I was going for, there were quicker ways to die.

Which brought my thoughts full circle, back to where they had been in the park. But of course thinking of the park brought on other, more powerful memories, and suddenly Carlisle was there behind my eyes in all his glory, golden eyes dancing. After all this time, why had I suddenly seen him again now? I had spent years wishing, praying to meet him again. To meet him when I was old enough for him to see me as more than a clumsy child. Well, that was the insecurity talking. He had never seemed to regard me that way, had even then spoken to me as an equal. But no, I had never seen him. So why now? I had grown too tired, too apathetic to believe in God anymore, but if I still had, I would have said this was a sign.

A sign for what, exactly? Not to kill myself? If so, then where was the motive behind that? How could I ever hope to see him again, after tonight? I couldn't, not realistically. As far as I had heard, he had left town. He was probably only passing through. And even if he wasn't, it didn't matter. Because as little as betraying Charles would matter to me, it would matter to Carlisle. He was good in every way possible. And besides, he would never be interested in me.

Maybe it wasn't a sign, anyway. Maybe it was just…the last good thing I would ever get on this earth. A fresh memory of him to fill my head. He had smelled so good, so…alluring. More than that, it was a scent that drew me in, had a magnetic pull. Like his eyes. Everything about him. Would he think it was weird that I had remembered him? Well, he hadn't seemed to think so at the time. He had remembered me too, and while I was too dazed to let it effect me at the time, remembering that fact now had my heart hammering in my chest again, this time over an emotion other than fear. He had remembered me. Carlisle had remembered me.

Which probably meant nothing, other than the fact that he was a good doctor. I needed to get a grip, to realize he would never love me. Everything would be much easier then, to accept. But that was something I had never been able to do. I loved him too much, it was too strong. I couldn't make myself see that it wasn't fate, that he wasn't the one for me. I could feel it in my bones, in my soul. I knew it to be true so deeply that nothing could shake it, not even the truth of my circumstances. I had tried to tear the knowledge out, but it just wouldn't come. And I was tired of trying. The dreams of Carlisle distracted me from the way things were, and for that I was grateful. His arms were a safe haven in the hours when I was asleep.

How many times soon after our marriage had I dreamed of my angel coming to my defense? Of him storming in, taking me in his arms, keeping me safe. I could still remember the first night I had dreamed of him in my bed, making love to me the way Charles never had. All I had ever had was violence but he was…everything young girls dreamed of, he was more than that for me. When I woke up from that one, I had cried for about 10 minutes before I could get the weight of the regret under control. Of course, since the source of my grief wasn't known, Charles had beaten me for it.

A tear slid from my closed eyes and I brushed it away, my shoulder protesting in pain when I raised my arm. It was getting late. It didn't seem as if Betty was coming. No matter, I hadn't really cared either way. Turning onto my side, I wrapped the quilt tight around myself, burying my face in the pillow. I could only hope Charles wouldn't come in tonight. If there was any God of mercy at all, He'd let me have one night to cry, to be alone. Just one.

Tomorrow, I didn't know what I'd do. I didn't want to think that far. I knew, though, that I'd have a hard choice to make, harder now that I had seen him again. But for now, there was only the darkness, the throbbing of the bruises, and the memory of his face, his voice, his scent. The memories dulled the pain, and soon, I was drifting.

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Wow, this was very….painful to write, and it actually came out a little darker than I anticipated. For which I'm proud of myself, because I wanted to go as authentic with it as I could.

Don't worry, Carlisle'll do…well, something. : ) this fic will continue to be dark in places, at least for awhile, but there will be moments of happiness, promise.


	3. Watching

Thanks to those of you who reviewed, and to those who just read as well! I deeply appreciate your support…and reviews really are very drug like to me, GREAT motivation :hint hint:. lol

Alright, on with the show! (That I still don't own, btw.)

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**Carlisle**

As soon as I hit the edge of town, I broke into a run. It wasn't long before Edward found me, was tailing me, but I didn't slow, didn't even acknowledge his presence. I just ran. It had been a long time since I'd had to physically escape something, but the overload had been more than I could bear. I wasn't sure what I would have done if I'd stayed in town any longer. Finally my rage dulled to something at least coherent, and from there slid into a depression so sudden and intense I pulled up to a stop, slid fluidly to the ground with me head in my hands. I heard Edward stop beside me but he was silent. Listening, I presumed. Well, it was all here. _Go on, Edward. Pick through it. I don't feel like pointing it out, but it's here._

A moment that seemed much longer, and then… "What are you going to do?"

I slammed my fist into the ground with enough force to startle _me_, much less him. "Do you think I know? Honestly? If I did, why did I run?"

He shook his head, sinking down to lean against a nearby tree. "I'm sorry. For all of it."

So was I. I was sorry for her pain, sorry for the life I had left her in. I couldn't help blaming myself, even if it was crazy. If I had stuck around, I'd have seen that this never happened. I should have stayed, if only to watch over her from a distance. I had failed her.

"No, don't be ridiculous. She was never yours to protect."

But something inside me screamed that she was, and I could deny it no longer. Seeing her in pain had confirmed it, and if I hadn't been so emotionally weary the very insanity of it might have had me bursting into hysterical laughter. She was my mate, I could feel it in my very soul. My mate, and she was human. But despite that, she was mine. And if I had realized it sooner, I would have never let this happen.

A longer silence, then… "You can't take her as yours, Carlisle. Not unless you change her." There was a bitter note to his voice then, something like disapproval. Did he hate his life so much? "I was dying. She isn't."

And some would say she was worse than dead, living with that bastard. My lack of knowledge infuriated me. Had he always beat her? Was this new, something brought on by the war?

"Carlisle, you don't even know that it was him. Perhaps-"

My furious glare silenced him, and he looked away, holding one hand up in surrender. "I know. She was frightened of it, Edward. You weren't there. You didn't see." I pulled up the memory, ran over it again.

He nodded, vauge. "Yes. Well…that brings me back to my original question. What are you going to do, kill him? That isn't wise."

I was startled. I had never though…_could_ I ever…? _Thou shalt not kill…_ Even as the words came to mind, an image flashed, my hands around his neck. I didn't know his face, but even so. I could feel it, how easy it would snap in my hands. As easy as snapping a matchstick.

Edward's eyes widened. "You would consider it." There was a fair amount of awe in his voice. "Honestly, Carlisle, that isn't smart."

And he was shocked, also, because he never would have dreamed it of me, not really. Well, neither would I. But something about the marks on her skin brought out something sort of crazy in me, something feral, something I seemed to have very little control over. It was strange to me, because control was usually something I didn't struggle for. But where she was concerned… The rage bubbled up in me again and I growled before I could stop myself. "I don't know, Edward. I don't know."

"We need to get out of here."

"I'm not leaving her like this."

"She's a human!" His voice rose, and he was suddenly on his feet. "Would you just, for a moment please, _think_ before you act? She. Is. Human. You need to just let her go, and the sooner the better. The more attached you get, the harder it will be. This is her life now, and it isn't in direct danger. We need to go, before we're discovered."

"Then go." I wasn't leaving. Not now, not after what I had seen. I didn't know what I was waiting for, what I was going to do, yes, that much was true. But what I did know was that right now, I couldn't leave. "Go on, Edward. If you want to leave, do it."

He looked pained, torn at the thought. "You know I don't want to leave you. It's just…if we're discovered…."

"If you leave, the Volturi will punish only me. Perhaps it's best if you go. For whatever it is I choose to do…I accept the responsibility for my own actions." And, I realized suddenly, I did. I was ready to die for this, for a human I'd never even held in my arms. Not even once.

I zoned out a little, but I heard Edward swear, heard him sit back down, closer to me this time. Then he was leaning back against me, supporting me. I hadn't realized how weary I felt. "So. What are you going to do?" His voice was gentler this time, less of an accusation.

And this time, I thought it over. My answer came in the form of what was not necessary the wisest choice, but the choice that had the strongest feeling behind it at the moment. "In the long run, I don't know. But right now, I'm going to watch over her."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

It was a very easy thing to slid through her window, as easy as it had been to find it by following her scent. The window wasn't even latched. I slid it shut noiselessly behind me, rolled down and into a crouch on the hardwood floor. And there she was.

She slept soundly, nestled in a feather bed that seemed to almost swallow her small frame whole. My eyes were perfectly adjusted to the dark, and I could see every dark stain against her pale skin. I could smell the pooled blood. My hands shook, and I clenched them into fists to still the motion. She looked so beautiful in sleep, but still troubled. Her brow was furrowed, as if in fear rather than confusion. I inched forward, longing to smooth the wrinkle with my thumb. To erase, as I did, the reason for it.

I could hear him, down the hall. I could hear his heartbeat, his breath. I could smell him. He smelled faintly like alcohol, and I wasn't surprised. My hand clenched so tightly I was vaguely surprised my nails didn't mark my skin.

I inched closer to her, telling myself I mere wanted to check the extent of the damage. Before I knew it, I stood by her side, hardly daring to breathe. I had never beheld anything more beautiful. And nothing, nothing had ever hurt me more than the marks on her skin, the knowledge that he…that that _monster_ had hurt her. She was exquisite. How anyone could dare raise a hand to her s so far beyond my understanding I couldn't fathom it. She was a treasure, she deserved to be handled with the utmost care and attention. I would have, if I had had the chance. She would have never been anything less than revered under my hands.

At the very thought they itched to touch her, stretching out of their clenched fists, fingers flexing. Compromising, I slid the quilt down her shoulders a little as she turned in her sleep. Yes, the marks were more evident now. Her left shoulder in particular had taken quite a beating. I had never wished more fervently for my medical bag, but at the same time I knew I couldn't have used it even if I'd had it. No, that wouldn't see weird at all, waking to a doctor you barely knew biding your wounds in the middle of the night.

She stirred, whimpered, and before I could stop myself my hand was against her cheek, curving around it to offer comfort. She stilled but didn't wake and I hardly dared move, my body frozen, eyes transfixed. She whimpered again, and the fear was evident this time. And again, my instincts hit me sharply, all the more overwhelming because these feelings were so very new.

Carefully, I bent over her, pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Hush, beloved." There was no way she could have heard me, even in her sleep, for I spoke too low for her ears to perceive. Still, was it my imagination or did her muscles relax, her head tilt to lean farther into the hand still cupping her cheek?

Yes, it had to have been my imagination. Still, now that I had started touching her, I couldn't bear to stop. I slid my other hand across her arm, flitting over the bruised skin with no pressure. Morbidly, I tried my hand against the handprint. His fingers were wider and shorter than mine. "Esme…" Unable to resist, I kissed her forehead again. Her skin felt fire hot against my lips. She sighed, and for a moment I feared I had pushed to far. But no, she slept still. And more comfortably it seemed. Forcing myself to retreat I slid backwards, melding into the shadows of the corner.

I could watch until it was close to dawn, then I'd slid back out the window and run back to the woods. And contemplate just what on earth I was going to do next.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

I wasn't at all sure she'd come. It was the same park, the same time, but I didn't know if he would keep her in. The kind of man he was, he seemed to relish punishment. Perhaps he'd let her go, if only to punish her later. I wasn't sure, and it disturbed to find that I wasn't sure I cared. My thoughts ran in only one direction: speaking to her again.

I wasn't disappointed. She sat on the same bench, minus the book this time. Her eyes were fixed on the pond, but it was clear her thoughts were far away from the ducks and the murky green water. I was at her side in a flash, silent as I could manage. "Is this seat taken?" Perhaps a little too forward, too presumptuous of me, but she hadn't minded my company the day before. And at this point, I truly had nothing to lose.

Her eyes widened in shock, but that was followed by what appeared to be a genuine, if weak, smile. "No, not at all! Please, Dr. Cullen, do sit down."

"Carlisle. And thank you."

"Carlisle."

Her eyes fell down, busied themselves with a frayed string on the end of her gloves. It didn't seem she was going to speak again.

I took a deep breath. Whatever I was doing, it seemed I was going to have to be the one to stretch a little here. "How have you been, Esme? I remember the talks we had before, you know. I always found you…so very full of hope." And I hoped to God just then that I hadn't said too much. Please, God, let her not be afraid of me. Let her understand, as much as she can…..

She swallowed, and I was horrified to see tears well in her eyes. "I…I…." She shook her head, trying to clear it. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't get this emotional."

"No, it's perfectly alright." I wanted, ached to take her into my arms. Tell her just how alright it was, tell her that I would take care of her. That I would protect her from him. "If you don't mind me asking, what's wrong?"

"Everything." It was a soft whisper she probably wasn't even sure that I heard, but even then I was surprised by her sincerity. She of course, immediately retracted it. "But you don't need to be concerned with my problems, everything'll turn out in the end, it always does." She laughed, and it sounded slightly panicked. "That's what they say at least, isn't it?"

"I…yes. " What could I say? This was agony. "Is it something serious?" Please tell me. Please, Esme. I'm a doctor. Tell me. Believe that I can do something about this. Please, please, please…

She reached a hand up to brush a tear away from her eye, and once again her sleeve fell back to reveal the bruise. This time, I went out on a limb and caught her hand. "Nothing?"

For a moment she seemed mesmerized, her eyes locked on the place where my hand gripped her gloved palm ever so gently. Then, she was all motion. Pulling away from me. "Yes. Nothing. I'll be fine, don't worry about me. Everything's alright." She was babbling, rising, walking away.

"Esme." There was enough command in my voice that she stopped, and maybe just enough pleading to help.

Her answering smile was sad, but disturbingly genuine. "Not everything turns out the way we expect in our youth, Carlisle. My life is what it is, nothing more." And then she was gone.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

**Esme**

All the way home, I tried not to think of the fact that I had walked away from him. That I was possibly the biggest idiot in history, all because I didn't want to tell him what my life had become. To tell him the weakling that I had become.

And because my focus was elsewhere, it was easy to forget that this was a Monday, and that meant that Charles had been drinking. A couple glasses of wine with dinner was everyday, more than that common. But on Monday's, he played cards with our neighbor for three hours, drinking all the while. And continuing to drink after Richard left, which would be around the time it was now. I had wandered around the streets just long enough after seeing Carlisle that I would now certainly be returning home to a raging drunk…one all too happy to punish his disobedient wife.

It scared me, just a little, that I didn't even have the energy to be terrified as I slipped in the door. Was it crazy that my mind was still in the park, on the tender tone his voice had taken on when he asked me if I was alright?

I went up the stairs without really bothering to use the quiet side. I was walking to my punishment either way, I knew. He staggered to the door of his study, and I could tell by the way he leaned heavily on the wood that he was already very far gone. Maybe I'd get lucky, and he'd pass out before he could do too much damage. The way he reached out and grabbed my arm, wrenching me to him, made me think I might not have such great luck tonight. And this time, he didn't even bother to ask where I'd been. Oh he might, in a few minutes. But first things first. He pressed me against the wall and took my lips with his, forcing his tongue between them. He tasted like stale alcohol and cigar smoke, and it was all I could bear to endure it without even trying to push it away. _Just wait it out, just wait it out…_ Hopefully, this would all be over soon. "Did I ever tell you you're miserable at this?" his words were slurred, lips still inches from mine.

I flinched, just a little. Yes. Yes, he had. On several occasions. I kept my mouth shut.

"I asked you a question!" And this was one of _those_ nights. He was too far drunk to care about the future, because he backhanded me, hard enough that I was seeing stars. He wore a ring with his family crest, and I could feel the blood it had drawn oozing from the new welt on my cheek.

Still, I said nothing. It never, ever helped, and sometimes it made things worse. He grabbed my arm again, wrenched it almost out of socket, it felt like. I could feel another handprint in the making, and the last one hadn't even healed yet. He swung me around, threw me to the floor at his feet. I saw his fist raise back for the blow, but I didn't respond other than to close my eyes. Maybe he'd knock me out, and then I wouldn't have to deal with anything else until tomorrow.

There was a sound of bones cracking, the sound it would make if he had punched a granite wall, and my eyes snapped open. The lights in the room had been extinguished in the blink of an eyes, probably while mine were closed. I could hear Charles howling and cursing in the darkness, felt one of his legs flail out and kick me. I scrambled backwards, my heart pounding in my chest. Suddenly, I backed into something cold and solid, but before I could scream an equally cold hand clamped surprisingly gently over my mouth. "Quiet." I would know that voice anywhere, the voice of my angel. Carlisle. …Carlisle? His other hand grabbed my wrists, pulled them rapidly over his head, around his neck. "Hold on to me. Don't let go." He lifted me in his arms as if I weighed less than a feather, and quicker than should have been possible we were out the door and down the hallway. The blurring, unbelievable speed didn't stop until I was seated on the bed and he was inexplicably away from me, shoving a chair up under the door handle.

My eyes were glued to his hands, and I didn't notice the rustle of the curtains that would have alerted me that we weren't alone.

"Carlisle…what have you done?"

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:gasp: cliffhanger!

And yes I know, you want to kill me. but if you do that, I can't write the next chapter. : D

Review, and it might come sooner….


	4. Why?

Lizet M-Thank you so much for your reviews! They make me so happy. I'm so glad you're enjoying this. : ) I'll do my best to keep updating regularly, at least a chapter a day…which may or may not happen. Maybe a couple a day for awhile, who knows. It's much, much easier to neglect homework at the beginning of the semester. LOL Still, I'll do my best, promise. And I very much want to kick Charles' ass too…I would SO enjoy the chance to ah…have a little fun with him. LOL :shifty eyes: no, that doesn't sound sadistic at ALL….

Right…so, back to where we left off, after Carlisle decided to ah…interrupt.

Don't own him. Want him desperately, yes. But I don't own him.

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**Carlisle**

I ignored him at first, still focused on the sounds of Charles down the hallway. I could still hear him flailing around on the floor, cursing, and I couldn't help but feel a rush of sadistic pleasure. I knew I shouldn't feel this way. I was a doctor, a healer, I had never set out to hurt anyone before. But this wasn't a man, not in my eyes, and I couldn't control the fierce joy I felt at knowing he was in pain. And to think, I hadn't even hit him. Oh, it had been tempting. So very, very tempting. I had watched without moving for as long as I could bear, intending only to stop him if her life was in danger, rationalizing it by telling myself I would watch over her while she slept. But seeing her on the floor, at his feet…

Something had snapped, and I couldn't take it anymore. I had extinguished the lamps and positioned myself in front of her in the span of a second, knelt on the floor in front of her, hand extended to block his blow. Hearing his bones break had been very, very satisfying. He had put quite a bit of force behind that swing, something for which I was very glad, all things considered. I hoped it hurt like all hell. And though I felt somewhat guilty for that thought, the satisfaction was still winning out. His whimpers were quieting, and I realized I still hadn't answered Edward.

"Carlisle? What have you done? Why did you-"

"I should think the why would be obvious." We were both talking rapidly, faster than human ears could catch. She might notice the humming. She almost certainly would, unless she was just that dazed. Either way, it didn't really matter. I hadn't exactly been subtle about my actions in rescuing her. Anything after this could hardly shock her. Except for the absolute truth of what I was of course, and that I had no plans to tell her.

"This is insane! You shouldn't have-"

I whirled on him, seeing red. "If you tell me I should have let him-"

"No!" He snapped it back almost as angrily, then he calmed when I relaxed the defensive crouch I hadn't even felt my body slip into. Instinct, again. "No. I understand that…watching that, there was nothing else you could do. I probably would have interfered, too." I had a pretty good idea of how he would have interfered, however. He had done it before, slipped up, but always on criminals, always on those that he deemed deserving of death. It was playing God, and I didn't like it, but he slipped up so rarely… His eyes narrowed at my thoughts, confirming what I already knew. Had he been in my place, Charles would be dead. The thought wasn't necessarily a bad one, in this context. He shook his head. "All the same. That was-"

"Reckless. I know. But I doubt he'll remember it tomorrow, he's very drunk." I spat the last word out, my distaste clear. I had never had any use for alcohol as a man, and I couldn't abide those that abused it, used it as an excuse for otherwise inexcusable behavior.

Edward tilted his head, listening. He sighed. "You're right, actually. He thinks he missed, hit the desk. He never saw you, you were fast enough. He thinks she ran. She'll be in trouble tomorrow, unless he forgets all of tonight. Which is actually a distinct possibility."

Good. At least I hadn't exposed us. At the time, I had been concerned with nothing but protecting Esme, but now that things were slipping into a more logical order, that really hadn't been the best decision I'd ever made. Still. I would have done the same thing, if offered the choice again. It was worth it. Which reminded me that she was still sitting on the bed, certainly completely confused. I took a deep breath, turned away from Edward to face her. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, slow. I didn't see any terror in her eyes, but it would only be natural to be afraid of us. Especially now that she knew we weren't normal. I moved slowly, eased my way closer to her. "It's alright, I'm sorry if I frightened you."

She shook her head, rapidly. "No. No, I'm not afraid of you." She seemed shaken, but honestly not frightened. I was surprised, but glad. "Who…?" She cast a glance at Edward, and she did look slightly fearful then. Well, he was unfamiliar. And I had taken a defense posture against him, and without being able to hear our words…yes, that all must have looked very bad.

"This is my son, Edward." Why not go with the truth? "I'm sorry if he startled you. He was just…making sure I was alright." He tipped his head, slightly, though he remained by the window. At first, his coldness surprised me. After what this woman had just been through how could he… Ah. The blood on her cheek had largely congealed but all the same… "Edward, could you bring me my bag?"

He shot me a grateful glance and slid his hands to the windowsill, ready to launch himself out. "Edward?" The door would be smarter. More normal.

Edward grimaced. "Obviously. But you're the one thinking that she's already seen enough. What's a little more?"

Well. If he was that desperate to leave….and apparently he was, because the minute I thought even that slight concession, he had vaulted himself out the window. I heard the muffled thud as he landed, in a dead run almost as soon as his feet hit the ground. I honestly hoped he would come back with my bag. I would dearly love to a least clean that cut properly, though I knew I couldn't bandage it. Not when Charles couldn't know that anyone had been here. Which brought me crashing back to the present, and to the fact that I had no idea how to explain myself.

"You can sit down, you know, I'm really not afraid of you." Her voice was timid but strong, and the sound was so welcome. I nodded, very carefully settling in on her left side. Close up, the welt on her cheek looked even angrier, more painful.

"May I?" I gestured toward her wound, and she only hesitated a second before nodding. Even prepared for it, she flinched a little when I touched her cheek. It took every ounce of self control I had, just then, not to tear the door of its hinges and finish Charles once and for all. "It's alright, I won't hurt you." Not ever. Not for anything.

"I know." She bit her lip, shut her eyes. "It just hurts, that's all."

Probably something like the gash in my chest I felt, hearing those words. Her pain was now mine. "I can help that, as soon as Edward comes back with my things." Out of the corner of my eye I caught a bowl on the dresser. I could smell the water. Yes, that would do nicely to clean her up. "Just a moment." I brought it back to the bed, soaked the cloth in the cool water, then rung it out before bringing it up to her face. "This will probably sting. I'm sorry." Holding her head steady with my 

other hand, I began the process of cleaning the drying blood as gently as I could. At a particularly tender spot I felt more than heard her sharp intake of breath, and I muttered "I'm sorry." once again, under my breath. As irrational as it might have been, I didn't want to cause her any pain, even minor pain. I wanted only to take the pain away.

"Why did you do it?"

My breathing increased, hand tightening on the cloth. What could I say? The truth would only scare her away, I was sure. The last thing she would want to hear would be a declaration of love, no matter how honest it was. Love was something I was sure she had learned not to trust. And I didn't want her afraid of me now. "You're asking why, but not how? I should think that would be your first interest."

I released her, slid the bloody cloth back into the water. It turned pink, and I fought the revulsion at the reminder of what he had done. I rose to put it back where I had found it, and she spoke while my back was turned. "I've always…I've always known, on some level, that you were something more. Ever since I saw you for the first time. Only I didn't know what, and I still don't. I only know that you've been my savior twice now, and while the first time might have been your duty, I don't see how this was any of your concern. So why did you do it?"

I spread my hands across the flat surface, busied my eyes with the mazes in the grain of the wood. "Any decent man would have done the same." Man. Who was I fooling? The word usually sounded and felt true, but here, where I could hear her heart beating, smell the very life in her….

"If they had seen, perhaps. But no one should have. You followed me. Why?"

"I suspected-"

"Carlisle." The pleading in her voice caused me actual pain, like a vise around my heart. My eyes snapped up, met hers in the mirror. There were tears shining in them. "Why?"

And looking into her eyes, even merely as a reflection, there was no way I could have resisted telling her the truth. It was a compulsion far too powerful. "Because I saw the bruises. I saw them, and I couldn't bear the thought of him hurting you. So I came last night to check on you. You were sleeping. Tonight I intended the same, but you didn't stay long with me in the park and I couldn't wait. I followed you home. And so I was there, and I did see." With some difficulty, I ripped my eyes away, focused on the wood again. "That's why." And because I love you. Desperately. Even though I shouldn't.

"Thank you." How could a whisper still carry so much agony? Was it still from him, or had I hurt her somehow? Was she more frightened of me than she was letting on? I caught Edward's scent then. Just under the window. Good. He was such a good man. I went to the window without looking at her, held out my hand. He tossed the bag up and I caught it deftly by the handles, yanking it quickly in the window. Thank you, Edward.

"You're welcome." His voice was already fading down the street, even as he answered. Unfastening the silver buckle I slid my hand in and fished around until I found the jar of salve I was looking for. This should be just the thing, both for the cut and the bruises. "This should ease the pain." I sat down beside her on the bed again, dipped my fingers in the jar, then hesitated. "Unless you'd rather-" She might not want me touching her, and I certainly wouldn't blame her.

She shook her head. "No. No it's fine."

I started with her cheek, easing the salve into the cut, apologizing almost inaudibly when it burned. I moved on after that, down to her neck, her shoulders, and the farther I went the more I wondered if 

this was such a good idea after all. Now that I was touching her, I wasn't sure how I would be able to stop.

"I thought I would never see you again." Her voice was louder than I expected in the silence, even more so because I hadn't expected her to speak at all.

"Yes. I had moved on."

"But you came back. Why?"

She really was relentlessly curious, but it didn't bother me as much as it should have. She had lost a great deal since I had last seen her, but it relieved me to see that some of that tenacity, that passion was still in her. But how to answer…. Make a business meeting? No, she'd know that wasn't true. "I wanted to see how you were. If your life had gone as you told me it would. I wanted to know if you were happy."

"You really remembered me." There was a faint trace of awe in her voice, and I couldn't help but smile. If she only knew. I couldn't forget her any more easily than I could forget the sky, the air.

"Yes. I did. What I find more amazing is that you remembered me."

She laughed, soft, and the sound sent a jolt to my heart. I wanted to hear it again. "That isn't surprising at all. I've never met anyone like you." She blushed then, as if she feared she'd said too much. She didn't know how true her words were. She most certainly had never met anyone like me. If she had, she wouldn't be alive. "You never really answered my question, you know."

I was on to her forearm now, the bruise I had seen that first night. It had lightened from its original angry purple, but the marks were still plenty visible. I smoothed my fingers across her skin rubbing the medicine in, my thumb rubbing circles against her wrist before I could stop it. "Which question?"

"Why? Why did you come back? Do you check on everyone? Is that…is that what you do? Look after people?"

I sighed, slowly screwed the cap back on the jar. "Yes and no. I am a doctor, so that is my job description. But no, this wasn't part of my job. This was all me." Masochist.

"Then why-" She really was inescapable. Swiftly, I slid two fingers up to cover her lips. They burned, sparked. I could feel the current race from my fingertips all the way through my body.

"It's late. You've been through a lot, you should rest. Charles is asleep." And he was. Or, passed out was the better term. I could hear his deep, sluggish breathing.

She seemed on the verge of protesting, but I pushed her back gently, settling her shoulders against the pillows. "Rest. You'll feel better." I covered her with the quilt, giving in and letting my hands brush her skin one last time as I did. Turning my back, I slid the jar back into my bag, prepared myself to leave. It wouldn't be easy, even if I only left until she was asleep. Somehow, leaving her side had become painful.

"Carlisle?"

"Yes?" I turned quickly, maybe too quickly. I was far too eager to delay.

She bit her lip, seemed unsure of her question. "He…he's asleep?"

"Yes. I promise." So, he came for her sometimes during the night. I wasn't surprised. The way he had forced that kiss on her had shown me what I had known but hadn't wanted to acknowledge. If he beat her, he certainly wouldn't have any qualms about forcing himself on her. I swallowed the rage.

"Could you…" She seemed reluctant to ask, and suddenly I felt almost dizzy. If she wanted me to stay… If she wanted…. "I'd feel…safer if you stayed. Unless you have to leave."

I think I almost melted with relief. "Of course I'll stay. I'll be right here." I slid down against the wall across from the bed, my eyes never leaving hers. "Don't worry, I'll stay." Forever, if you'll let me. You should probably be careful what you ask, Esme.

"Thank you…" her words trailed off at the end, her eyes drifting shut. It wasn't long before she was sleeping peacefully.

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I just love protective Carlisle. So, so adorable. And I want to start the next chapter, but I must go to class now…argh.

And fanfiction is being ridiculous. I had this ready to post at 2, but the documents manager is down so…I'm so sorry guys, this would have been up sooner. :grumbles:


	5. Stay

As of when I'm starting this, the document manager isn't working. And I'm very, very annoyed. But on the bright side, by the time it does, I might have a few chapters done if they keep taking forever and a year with it like it seems they are right now…. (I am not at all a very patient person, can you tell? lol)

I still love them from afar. Without ownership.

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**Esme**

When I woke, I knew I had dreamed it all. Knew it so deeply I was afraid to open my eyes, afraid to breathe. This dream had been more real than all the others. Strange in parts, yes. I wondered where my mind had pulled Edward from. I squeezed my eyes tighter shut, trying my best to fend off the tears that were threatening to make an appearance. _It wasn't real. It wasn't. Just accept it, just accept it…_

A cold hand brushed my cheek, and my eyes snapped open. He was standing over me, eyes full of concern. "Are you alright?" Gently, his thumb brushed a tear from my cheek. Then he seemed to realize my eyes were open, watching him, and he pulled his hand sharply away. I wished he wouldn't. My head spun a little at seeing him again, unable to comprehend for a moment. He was here. He was really here.

I managed, with some effort, to unglue my throat. "I'm alright."

He nodded, but the worry didn't fade. "Charles is locked in his room. I heard him tell the maid to stay downstairs, he doesn't have any need of her today. And that he won't be downstairs today, either. Has quite the hangover, apparently." His lips twitched, though I could tell he was fighting it. "And he sent for the doctor, to set his fingers. They should be here sometime this afternoon."

I nodded, winced as I tried to support myself on my shoulder to push into a sitting position. He was there in a flash, strong hands supporting me.

"Here." He eased me up as if it took no effort, pulled the quilt back up around me. I tried not to think too much of it, but my heart pounded anyway. _He's a doctor. This is what he does. You aren't special._ Probably true. But if I wasn't, why did he come back for me? Alright, maybe not _for_ me but he had at least been curious. And he had never really told me why. Maybe he just hadn't had a patient as rebellious as me in awhile. Maybe that interested him somehow. It wouldn't be the first time I had been a curiosity. Charles had thought so too. As soon as the thought came, I shoved it away. This man, my angel…he was nothing like Charles.

Not to mention the fact that I wasn't entirely certain _what _he was. "Thank you for staying." I couldn't look at his deep golden eyes as I said it, but I hoped he could feel the gratitude.

"It was my pleasure." Ah, that soft, smooth voice. I wished he would just keep talking. "Are you hungry?" He could probably read the newspaper and make it sound interesting. But he had asked me a question, and I finally registered it.

"Ah…yes, I guess."

He smiled, warm. "Alright. How about I bring you some lunch?"

"Lunch?"

"You were very tired, Esme." I loved the way my name rolled off his tongue. As if it had been structured to be said by him alone. Well, he was right. I had been exhausted. And thinking he was there, whether I had thought it a dream or not, had certainly improved my sleep. I actually felt well rested. And now, hungry. So yes, lunch was sounding really good right now.

I nodded, smiled at him. "That would be wonderful." My common sense caught up to me then, and my shoulders slumped with the weight of it. Things may have been perfect last night, but that was just his sympathy. It couldn't go on like this. "But you shouldn't. I'm sure you have to go. Thank you, for pulling me away from him. I appreciated it more than I can say."

He crossed the room, sat down on the bed by my knees, his hand hovering for a split second over mine before falling to the quilt. "Esme…I don't need to be anywhere, not really. I'm here to take care of you."

"But you don't have to, I mean…" I took a deep breath. "I know, things didn't turn out the way you thought. The way I thought. They turned out pretty horribly in fact." My voice had dropped as I spoke, and I could hear the horror and despair in my own voice. "But there's nothing anyone can do about that now."

I looked up, expecting to see him reluctantly agree. Instead, he took my breath away. His eyes gleamed with a fire I had never seen, darker than they had been a few days before in the park but no less brilliant. "That isn't true. You don't have to do this."

I had thought exactly the same things. I doubted, however, that he would like my alternative. Doctors were always against suicide, as far as I knew. "Yes. I do."

His eyes flamed brighter, and I wondered how I could resist them. How I wasn't just agreeing with everything he said. It was a look that would have been dangerous on anyone else, but I knew him, knew his gentle nature. He was glorious. "He doesn't own you. You're strong by nature, I know it. I saw it in you, even as a girl. He's already hurt you enough to dim that fire, but you can recover it. I know you can. Don't let him steal it from you completely. Esme, don't." There was just enough pleading there, and he had moved closer.

Why? Why did it matter so much to him? "I can't!" And I was crying now, because we wanted the same things, in part at least. But I had thought this through a hundred times. "I can't leave him, Carlisle. My family, the scandal…it would terrible. They would never live down the shame. I can't leave him. They'll disown me if I ask for a divorce, and he would never consent willingly. I have no choice."

"You always have a choice." And he was closer still in his intensity, his desire to get through to me. The scent of him was dizzying. I could even smell the scent of his breath, sweet somehow, similar but not quite the same as the smell that clung to the air around him. "You can't tell me you've never thought of it, of getting away."

I had. Many, many times. More times than I could ever tell him. I had played it in my head a million different ways. Some of them serious, some of them crazy. The crazy ones were good for making me laugh on the bad days. In one of them, I had left him driving a train. He had stepped out onto the tracks to try and stop me. "Yes. Yes I've thought of it. But I can't. I won't do that to my family. There's only one way I'll escape Charles." And I hadn't meant to say that last part, really I hadn't. Even so, it had come out. And my voice was dark enough that I knew he would understand the unspoken meaning. And I instantly regretted it, because though I still didn't understand why any of it mattered to him, the pain that shot through his eyes could have never been anything but genuine.

His hand gripped my arm suddenly, almost too tight, though I'd never admit it. For a moment, he seemed horrified beyond speech. I don't know what made me do it, or what made me think I could, but I reached for his other hand. No one could have been more surprised than me when he took it willingly. Not just willingly, but like a drowning man. Finally, he found his voice again. "Never. Promise me." It seemed to be all he could say.

If I promised that, I'd be giving away my last escape. And as soon as he left, as I knew he surely would, probably soon, it was an escape I would need. It was a promise I couldn't make. "I can't." Tears choked the words, evidence of a fraction of how hard it was to tell him that, to deny him something he so clearly wanted desperately. "I can't." Clearer, the second time. But it didn't hurt any less.

"Esme…" he turned his head away, eyes clenched shut. "I cannot bear this." He said it as if to himself, and I had never heard words more full of misery. Not even my own, on the worst of terrible days. That time, my heart really and truly stopped for a moment. The suffering in those words was so complete, I would have offered anything just then to take it away. But before I could, his eyes had snapped open, boring into mine, the desperation in them plain. "Would it matter if…" His voice was hoarse, broken. I hung on every word. Anything. I would do anything he said. "If I told you that I have loved you from the moment we met? That if something happened to you, and I wasn't there to save you, there would be no reason for my own life? For anything? I appreciate that it sounds insane to you, I'm sure, but if it…if it would matter, if it would-"

And he stopped talking then, because it had taken me that long to recover from the shock. But once I had, I closed the short distance between us, sobbing, burying my face in his shoulder. He stopped abruptly, stiffened, then relaxed, wrapped his arms tight around me. I was shaking with sobs, but I wasn't alone. I could feel his body shudder once against mine, his arms pull me even closer. Neither of us were capable of offering any real comfort beyond the anchor of our hold on each other. We simply melted together, held on for dear life. I have not the faintest idea how long it was before I calmed enough to slow the tears, steady my breathing. When I did, though there were many things I wanted to say, what came out first was one the one thing I _had_ to say.

"Yes. Yes, I promise." He shuddered again, buried his face in my hair. His breath came uneven, shallow. "Carlisle, I promise." I could feel him nod, could feel that he heard me, that he understood. That he just couldn't speak about it again. "I love you, you know. I loved you from the first." I pulled back a little so he could see the truth of it in my eyes. I smiled. "It sounds less magnificent now that you've said it first, but I've always loved you."

Slowly, a grin spread across his face, wiping the pure terror away. "No. No, nothing could make that sound less magnificent." He laughed, nuzzled against my uninjured right cheek. "Say it again." I could feel his breath on my skin, feather soft and cool.

"I love you, Carlisle."

He sighed, kissed my cheek before pulling back. "I could get used to that."

"You should, you'll hear it a lot." And it was in saying that that it dawned on me. This knowledge, while still the greatest of my life, didn't change anything else. It didn't matter who my heart belonged to, when in the eyes of the law I still belonged to Charles. He noticed the change, and lightening fast he was up beside me on the bed, now at a better angle to pull me against his chest.

"You don't have to worry. I can take you away from here." He sounded so confidant, so jubilant. "He'll never touch you again, I promise, Esme."

If only that could be true. I hesitated, wanting to phrase this in the way that would hurt him the least. There was no good way to say it. "Carlisle…I can't leave him. I already told you."

I couldn't watch his new, happy world crashing down. Not when I had been the cause. I looked out the window. He was silent for a very long time. "Not even for me. For us." There was a hollowness to his voice that tore at my heart, told me I was as terrible as Charles had ever said I was.

"It…Carlisle…"

"Your family will forget, in time."

"But society won't. And I still love them, Carlisle. No matter what they would do to me, I can't, I won't do this to them. Can't you understand?" He had to. He was a man of honor himself, I knew it. Couldn't he understand the honor in this, even if it was insane? Even if it ruined everything?

"What if…something happened to Charles." His voice was darker then than I had ever heard it, and for a moment a chill of fear swept down my spine. In that moment, he sound like the embodiment of darkness itself. He felt my shiver, and he pulled the quilt up around me. "Forgive me. No matter what he's done, that isn't an option."

I was glad that I hadn't had to answer. I wanted Charles dead, certainly. But not at my angels hands. His hands were pure, untainted. Even he would regret it, later, if he took a life now.

He sighed, pressed a gentle kiss to my temple. My heart rate skyrocketed, and I could feel his chuckle, his chest pressed against my back. Could he hear it? Really? Or was he laughing about something else? At this point, I put nothing past him. "Carlisle?"

"Hm?" He sounded tired, sad, frustrated but defeated. And somehow, still content all at once. I could feel that in the lazy way his thumb brushed across my skin when I had said his name.

"What are you, really?"

He tensed, sighed. "It doesn't matter."

"I'm curious."

"You don't want to know, believe me."

"Yes I do."

"It doesn't-"

"If it doesn't matter, then why can't you just tell me?" I was annoyed, now. No matter how big of a secret it was, surely he could trust me with it. I'd never tell. "Please, the truth. No dodging. Why won't you tell me?"

I felt his chest rise and fall with a sigh. "Honestly? It's purely selfish. You already know far too much. Telling you the actual truth wouldn't be too much of a stretch, at this point. However, if I tell you, you'll be afraid of me. More afraid than you are of him. And while I suppose that would be good, in the sense that it would…uncomplicated your life, I don't want that. More than anything, I don't want you to fear me."

He had done as I asked, been completely honest. I was grateful, but that didn't mean that it wasn't also completely ridiculous. I turned in his arms, wincing slightly when my shoulder protested. He moved to restrain me, then, but I waved his hand off, readjusted till I could look him in the eye. "I'm glad you told me the truth. Especially since it's ridiculous." I said it gently, despite the reproach. My 

right hand came up to mold to his cold cheek, stroking his skin. It was the smoothest surface I had ever felt, and hard, like his arms. I had always assumed that was muscle but now… Well, it didn't matter. Touching him felt wonderful. But I had to focus now. "Nothing, and I mean _nothing_ could ever make me fear you."

"This would." His lips barely moved. He seemed as entranced by my touch as I was with touching him.

My hand slid farther, down to his jaw, and I brought my other up to fully hold his beautiful face in my hands. "Nothing. All those years when you were away, you were my safety even then. In my dreams, it was always you that saved me from him. Always. You were the one thing he could never taint, the one thing he could never take away." Heart pounding in my ribs I took a chance, leaned in to him, rested my forehead against his. He didn't pull away, instead leaned into the contact, his eyes fluttering closed. "You are my angel, my safety. Always. I will never be afraid of you. Not ever." Silence. I could feel his breath on my lips. They were so close… But no, this was important.

"Carlisle?"

"Stregoni benefici." It tumbled out in a whisper, so fast I barely caught it.

"Which is…"

"Italian." His eyes snapped open, and they were dancing now, his lips curving into a grin.

"Translation?"

"No. To be fair, I did just tell you." And it was impossible to be mad at him, because he was smiling that particularly beautiful smile of his, the one that was even more beautiful in his eyes than on his perfect lips. And I wanted to be at least annoyed, really, but then he was closing the minute distance, his lips covering mine. My heart stopped, then stuttered to a start again, and before I could even begin to enjoy more than the initial brilliant burst of joy, he pulled away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

Always a gentleman. Well, he didn't need to worry. I had been waiting years for his kiss. No matter what Charles had done to me, this fell under the category of what I had told him before: I would never, could never fear him. Not in any way. So, I interrupted his apology, pressed my lips to his. They were cold, hard, but deliciously gentle. He moved cautiously, his hand cupping my chin as if it were made of glass, his lips only slightly moving against mine. It was sweet, tender, heartbreakingly beautiful but far too short. He pulled away less abruptly this time, and I could feel his unsteady breath. "Don't be sorry."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because I'm finding it very hard to be sorry, at the moment."

"Good." And I inched forward, seeking his lips again. Instead, his lips found my forehead, and he pulled back.

"You have to be starving. I should go get your food now." He moved to pull away, but on a sudden panicked impulse I gripped his sleeve. He paused instantly, though I knew he was more than strong enough to pull away. "Don't worry, I won't be long."

But that wasn't exactly all I wanted to know. There was a conversation we had had, well, more than one, that hadn't really come to a conclusion. "Carlisle? Where… What are we going to do now?"

He sighed, his shoulders dipping a little. Suddenly, he had my face in his hands, my eyes level with his. And if I had thought his eyes were beautiful before, they were dazzling now. "Come away with me. Please, Esme."

"Please, don't ask this of me."

"And you would ask me to let him hurt you? To know it, to see the evidence of it? How much do you think I can bear?"

"Carlisle…" And it sounded pained enough to stop him for now. I could tell by the way his eyes dimmed. And oh it hurt, more than I could have ever told him.

He nodded, acceptance. "I won't give up." I wouldn't have expected him to. "But for now, this is what we're going to do. I'm going to stay with you, whenever I can. I can't…" His voice broke, his eyes closing. "I can't protect you all the time, Esme. Or even some of it, not unless he's as drunk as he was last night. If he suspects there's anyone else, he'll only be harder on you. And I won't be the reason for that. But I will always be nearby, I swear it." He opened his eyes again, and he had banished the pain. They were almost unbearably sweet. "And we will be together as much as we can. We'll be alright."

"Do you promise? You promise to stay?"

He smiled, gentle. "Forever."

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Poor, poor Carlisle…. Still, things cheered up a little here. but don't get too used to it…. LOL (yes, I know…cruelty to the readers….but they don't have laws against that, do they? Hehe)


	6. Closer

Yay! Reviews! : D So exciting. Thank you all so much, I really, really appreciate it. Great for encouragement. (so those of you out there reading who haven't reviewed yet…it really makes my day…hint hint, : ) lol)

If I owned Twilight, there would have been more Carlisle. I mean, it's pretty much perfect as is, don't get me wrong. But adding Carlisle to anything can improve it…which just says how damn amazing he is, because it's hard to improve perfection. lol

And I don't own Byron either. Borrowed from him a little, yet again. No, he isn't one of my favorite poets or anything… (incidentally, if you've never read his work, you really should. beautiful stuff.)

And this chapter is dedicated to Lizet M, my amazingly loyal reviewer. Thank you so much, both for your wonderful reviews and for recommending this story!

**Update** went back and fixed a couple typos, a sentence that in my process of editing and moving around ended up in two places. it's better now. : )

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**Esme**

I wasn't sure how long he would be gone, but I hope it would at least give me a chance to change. I had fallen asleep last night in the dress I had worn all day the day before, and while it had at least been a fairly comfortable one, I would definitely feel better in clean clothes. I pulled the dress off, rolling my shoulder a little to loosen the stiff muscles. They still hurt, but not as badly. Whatever he had used had helped a little. The bowl of water on the dresser was a disturbing shade of pink, and I resolved to go pour it out in the sink as soon as I was dressed.

Pulling open my chest of drawers I rummaged around for a moment, thinking. Comfortable, I wouldn't be leaving. But something that was pretty, because Carlisle would be back. My heart hammered at the thought, and I remember too that I had to hurry. How long would it take him to get back? Not long, probably. I definitely needed to be dressed when he got here. I decided finally on an older dress, light green. Father had always said it went well with my eyes, and I trusted his opinion.

I had stepped to the mirror and was in the process of running a brush through my hair when I felt his hands on my waist. "You look absolutely lovely." My breath caught and I dropped the brush, then blushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

I looked up into the mirror, smiled at his reflection, his head now resting on my right shoulder. "No, it's fine. I just didn't hear you coming."

"No, you wouldn't." He kissed my cheek then pulled away, leaving one hand on the small of my back. "Here. I hope this is alright, I wasn't sure what you would want." There was a covered plate on the dresser. I could smell the delicious scent of fried chicken coming from it. I pulled the cover off, mouth watering. Yes, there was fried chicken. And roasted red potatoes with garlic. And green beans. And corn bread. All from the restaurant down the street, I was certain. I had been there with Charles before. Very nice, very expensive. My stomach growled. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until just then.

He laughed. "I told you you were hungry. Did I do alright?"

"Fantastic. You didn't bring a fork, by any chance?" I turned to look at him just in time to his face fall a little, and I giggled. "Don't worry, you remembered everything else. I'll go down to the kitchen." I felt him tense, his fingers curling on my back just enough to be clinging lightly to my dress.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I have to live with him, Carlisle." It was softer, more subdued. "I have to know how to maneuver around him, I've done it for a few years now." I shook off the crushing sadness that always accompanied thoughts of my husband. "Besides, you said he's in his room. Even if he hears me, he probably won't come down. I'll be quick, it's alright."

"I could-"

"No, Betty would see you." He looked so anxious just then that I shot forward, kissed the corner of his lips. "I'll be back. Wait here."

His grip loosened, reluctantly, and before he could protest again I slipped out the door. Truly, I was all for moving around very little in the house, except on weekdays. Usually, that was fine as he was working. Today, though since he was home…well it was either hit or miss. He could do precisely what I'd told Carlisle he would and be too hung over to care. Or, he might find something else to blame me for, in which case I was in trouble. But I hadn't told him that part, and I fervently hoped I wouldn't have to. At least not today.

Betty's eyes widened when she saw me and she rushed to my side. "Oh, miss. Here, sit down, I'll get you some tea."

I smiled for her, shook my head. I did, though, take her offered hand and squeeze it. The wrinkles and veins reminded me so much of my own grandmother, a wonderful, gentle woman I had lost at the age of 14. I loved Betty so much because she was like her in many ways. "No, but thank you. I just…" And I realized how strange it would look, to come down and pick up only silverware with her watching. She knew very well I had no food up in my room. Something I hadn't even thought of hit me then, and I was glad. It gave me the perfect excuse. "Is there any lunch left?"

Her eyes brightened. "There's some potato soup, miss. The master didn't eat much, and I haven't eaten yet myself. But there's plenty for the both of us."

That would do. "That sounds wonderful. Could you put some in a bowl, on a tray for me? I want to eat upstairs."

"Very good, miss."

While her back was turned I rummaged in the silverware, took a knife and fork as well as a spoon. She would have wondered why soup required either, and I was glad she didn't turn around, used the opportunity to slip them in my sleeve. There was something exciting about the sneaking around, something that brought back a spark I hadn't felt in a long time. This could be fun.

She was quick, and I was soon handed a tray bearing a nice, warm bowl of soup. And a cup of tea. And a glass of water. I smiled warmly. "Thank you, Betty."

"Of course, miss." Her eyes were tender, concerned. They lingered on my cheek, and her fingers shifted as if they desired to reach out and feel the mark for themselves.

It was harder, this time, to smile. "I'm alright. I'll see you later." Then I was gone, up the stairs as quietly as I could manage. I didn't even hear Charles stir behind the shut door to his room, and for that I was very grateful. Carlisle opened the door for me.

He was smiling, relieved. He took the tray from me easily, held it in one hand while he shut the door behind me. "If you wanted more, I would have brought it. I didn't know how much-"

I shook my head. "No, no you definitely brought me plenty. But you didn't bring yourself anything, and you must be starving. Besides, she wouldn't let me get away without lunch. What?"

He was smiling, with a look as if it were about some joke I was missing. He settled the tray down on the dresser, motioning at me to sit on the bed. He shuffled things around a little before bringing it to me, full of my plate of food and the tea and water. "Don't worry about me. I'm not hungry."

Something about the way he said it, as if it were amusing… "Do you ever eat?" Maybe, if I asked enough questions, I could piece this together.

His lips quirked. "Yes." He sat down beside me, watching me.

"Hm." I ate while I thought, chewing eagerly. Yes, this was _very_ good. How many meals had I skipped?

"I doubt you'll figure anything out through elimination. It would certainly surprise me if you did, but I could always be wrong." His brow furrowed slightly. "I hope I'm right about this, though."

"Hm." It was more frustrated this time, and he smiled. I finished my meal without another word, thinking. What sort of questions could I ask that would even tell me anything? What would he answer? Was he right? Well, not about him scaring me, that was stupid. But did it _really_ matter? He was my Carlisle, no matter what else he was. Anything else was just another irrelevant label. The important one I already knew. _Mine._ When I finished, he pulled the tray away from me and took it to the closet it, opening it and sliding it just inside. I gave him a puzzled stare, and he laughed.

"Just in case. I wouldn't want…him to see it, to wonder if you'd been out without his knowing. I'll take care of it later." He joined me on the bed again, next to me, one arm snaking around my waist. I leaned happily, against him, comfortable. I was getting used to the feel of his hard, cool body next to mine. It was different, but I liked that.

"Streg…stregoni…" I couldn't say it quite right.

"Stregoni benefici." From his lips, it carried the perfect accent.

"Yes. That." The annoyance was clear in my voice.

He laughed, then surprised me by moving quickly, pulling us both down on the bed until I was on my back and he rested on one arm, leaning in close over me. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart." My lips parted as I drew in a breath, and he was so close I could taste him on the air. It was intoxicating, and I realized maybe that had been his point. Conniving. Not that I really cared. But my brain was still working a little, and I wanted to use it while it was. "You said that was Italian. Are you?"

He smiled, and I could see a little bit of surrender in his eyes. His hand came up to trace along my face, fingertips grazing my skin so very gently. "Now that one I can answer. No, I'm not. Though I did live there for a time."

"Did you like it?" I was more distracted, now. His hand had traveled down to my neck, his fingers sliding around to run through the finer hair at the nape.

"Yes and no. There were aspects I liked very much, others I hated. It was an important time in my life, at least. I don't regret it."

"Where are you from?"

"London." His eyes sparked a little, and I wondered if he missed it.

"You have no accent." I almost wished he had. I had heard an Englishman talk before, when I was 15. His voice alone had made me blush. Then again, how anything could improve my angel's voice I really wasn't sure.

"No. Not anymore. I used to. Edward says he can hear it, now and then." He shrugged, fluidly. "I don't know. it's nice to think I haven't lost it completely. It's a little bit of home, especially since I don't expect to ever go back. Not for any length of time at least."

"Why not?"

He pursed his lips, looked away. The gentle movements of his hand stilled and I was sorry I had asked. "It's…more politics than anything else, but in any case, America is my home now."

Politics? I couldn't even remember who the Prime Minister was over there right now. And I didn't have time to think about it either, because his hand was moving again. Across my shoulder, down my arm, finally reaching all the way to intertwine his fingers with mine. My breath quickened, and he leaned in closer, closing the distance. His kiss was less hesitant this time, and I was grateful. The movements of his lips against mine were still controlled, at least at first. I was growing light headed before he moved a fraction of an inch, and I gasped at the air. I could smell him, taste him, and the air really did nothing about the dizziness. Quickly and yet not soon enough we came together again, and his movements were looser this time, less cautious. He pulled my lower lip between his, gently, ran his tongue over the sensitive skin. It was ice cold, but the feeling….it defied description. I gasped, my mouth opening willingly for him, and he took the invitation. I had dreamed for years of kissing him like this, real kisses, intense, passionate. And I realized now that nothing I had ever imagined had come close to the experience of kissing Carlisle. Nothing ever could. He tasted like Heaven, better than that. I could have imagined the most exquisite feeling in the world and never come close. My tongue moved eagerly against his and I could feel his lips curve up in a smile, his measured movements forcing mine to slow. Well, that was alright. So long as he was still kissing me. Except that his taste was an addition, and I wanted to appreciate it fully. I was more aggressive, slid my tongue between his lips, began exploring his mouth. He allowed it for a very brief moment, but then, very gently, he pulled away.

We were both panting, chests heaving. He nuzzled against me, left a tender kiss against the corner of my lips. His felt a fraction warmer from the contact. "I'm sorry. But next time, leave the control to me, if you will." And he did sound sorry, which told me there was a reason behind his concern. And that puzzled me more than anything else.

"Wh-" But he kissed me again to steal the words, though it was simple this time, chaste.

"Don't worry." And I couldn't, not at the moment. His soft murmur was too soothing, the feel of his cool breath on my moist lips too dizzying. I couldn't have worried about anything, just then.

"Alright." My voice was even more breathless than I expected. The room was still spinning.

For him as well it seemed, because he sighed, let his head fall to the pillow next to mine, his arm across my waist. The only sound was our breathing, growing steadier by the moment. Even his gentle, quiet voice sounded loud when he broke the silence. "It's five."

"Mm."

"You're not going out tonight?"

"I…shouldn't."

He stiffened, and I wished I could take the words back. I should have told him I was staying just because he was here.

He rose up on one arm again, tilted my jaw toward him with one gentle hand. His eyes were full of sorrow. Ever so carefully, he kissed the angry mark on my cheek. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"It's alright."

"No, it isn't. I should have stopped him sooner."

"I'm just glad you stopped him at all."

His hold on my waist tightened. "So am I." His hand found mine again, fingertips tracing the lines in my palm. "You like Byron."

I grinned. "Yes. Very much." It turned to a frown, as I remembered exactly what had happened to my book. Or rather, my lack of knowledge as to what had happened. Stupid, illiterate oaf. He had probably burned it. Thrown it away at the least. "Unfortunately, Charles took it from me."

Fire leapt in his eyes, and for a second he looked almost dangerous. It passed as soon as it had come, and his eyes were gentle once again, though perhaps a little darker. He nestled closer to me, wrapped the quilt around us. His lips brushed my ear, and his voice when he spoke had a reverent edge that was almost magical.

"It is the hour when from the boughs

The nightingale's high note is heard;

It is the hour -- when lover's vows

Seem sweet in every whisper'd word;

And gentle winds and waters near,

Make music to the lonely ear.

Each flower the dews have lightly wet,

And in the sky the stars are met,

And on the wave is deeper blue,

And on the leaf a browner hue,

And in the Heaven that clear obscure

So softly dark, and darkly pure,

That follows the decline of day

As twilight melts beneath the moon away." His voice was mesmerizing.

I was certain I was speechless, but somehow I found words. "You...that was beautiful."

He pressed a kiss just below my ear, and I could feel his smile. "Byron. You should know it."

"I do. But it sounds better when you say it. I'm never reading again." We laughed together then, and I loved the sound. I could feel his breath against the hollow of my throat, his hand still toying gently with mine. I had never in all my life felt as perfectly content as I did at that moment. "Carlisle?"

"Yes, beloved?" My heart thrilled at the sound. That sounded incredible. I loved that.

"Just that...do have any idea how much I love you? How happy you've made me?"

"Oh, Esme..." His hand slipped back to my waist, increased the pressure until I rolled over to face him. His eyes said a thousand things. "If I could ever bring you even the smallest part of the 

happiness you've given me by allowing me to be here with you, then I would be luckier than I would ever dare to dream. I should be thanking you, for giving me this honor. For letting me love you."

A tear slid from my eye, and he kissed it away. "I don't deserve you."

"You couldn't be more wrong." I closed my eyes and he kissed them, feather soft. "You should rest now."

"I slept half the day." I was torn. While sleeping with him here had been the most restful sleep I'd ever had, at the same time, I wanted to spend my time touching him, kissing him. I couldn't do that asleep.

"You have a lot of catching up to do." He rolled onto his back, pulled me with him to rest against his chest, my head over his heart.

I could hear his steady breathing, and for a moment the sound was lulling me to sleep. Then, the realization hit me, and I was very glad for the training that being around Charles had given me in handling my reactions.

My head rested just over where his heart should be, but there was no sound, no steady beat. There was nothing. I took a deep breath to calm the frantic nature of the revelation, forced down the screaming voice inside of me that begged to know _why_ his heart wasn't beating. Finally, I succeeded. My breathing was again even and deep, and if he had noticed the moment of panic, he hadn't said anything. His arms remained loosely draped over my body, no trace of tension in them.

Still dazed, I slid the information back in my mind. If I asked him about it now, he would surely not give me the truth. He would never lie, not directly. I knew that much for certain. But he would be upset with himself for not thinking of this, and he might not hold me quite so closely, thinking that it bothered me. It didn't, not really. Not so long as he was alive, which he most certainly was. I filed it away, information I knew would be useful if I ever wanted to figure out what exactly he was.

Soon, I was drifting again, thoughts fading in and out in time with his rhythmic breathing.

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Yay for fluffy, happy chapters.

You'll need it, before the next one. enjoy the drug now. Heh heh

But I will admit that while there are no laws against cruelty, there are basic ethics. Remember that no matter what I do to them along the way, they'll be ok in the end. : )


	7. Revelations

lol, sorry, didn't mean to be scary. :tones down prophecies of doom: ;)

Ah, Byron…he was an English poet in…well, I don't remember the years. But I got introduced to him way back in high school junior English and loved his work ever since. It has a beauty to it…and that one in particular I think would sound beautiful spoken by our lovely Carlisle. but you're so right, anything would. Like a grocery list. Hehe

And yes, I've thought for awhile that her next project should be Carlisle centric…it would make me soooo happy. I mean, he has all those other pictures in his office, all those stories….it'd be great to hear them.

Anyway, on with the story! And yes, I promise we'll get back inside Carlisle's head soon…in the next chapter I think. But everything going on right now has seemed best seen from Esme's perspective to me, so that's been the reason it's been her for the past few chapters. But we'll get back to him.

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**Esme**

Almost two weeks had passed, and I was hardly able to believe I could have ever been so lucky. The time had passed so smoothly. My confrontations with Charles had even been few and far between, largely because he was spending most of his time out of the house. It would have puzzled me if I had cared enough. He stayed late at work more often than not, and he had had what he had said were business meetings with a man I had never seen before. Still, it had kept him out of the house, and in a tolerable mood. He had screamed at me in front of Betty two days before, and it upset me as it always did. I worried for her heart more than for me; seeing him treat me that way upset her so. But I had been surprised at how bearable it had been, knowing Carlisle was up here, stretched out on my bed, waiting for my return.

He rarely left. I suspected that even when I went out, he stayed here more often than not, though I knew he did take some time to be with Edward. I had only met him a handful of times, and he seemed like a good boy, if a little distant. I couldn't see his resemblance to Carlisle, and I knew well enough that he looked far too old. Or Carlisle looked far too young. Another piece of information for my growing collection. Asking him questions was a dead end, I had quickly figured out. He truly didn't want me to know the answers. Looking around in the library, however unlikely, just might get me somewhere. So, that was what I had been doing, for about a half hour at least every time I was out in town. There was nothing so far, but I hadn't given up hope yet.

All in all though, life was perfect. More perfect than I could have ever dreamed. Even knowing that Charles' indifferent attitude couldn't last didn't dampen my spirits. I don't think anything could have. Well, almost.

It was past 11 o'clock and we were laying in bed together, facing each other. He held me close in the circle of his arms, my head tucked into his shoulder, my hands on his chest, his on my back. Our conversation had been fragmented, as always at times like this, but it usually flowed better. Tonight he was even distracted when he kissed me, and that wasn't like him at all. Something was wrong, but I wasn't sure how to ask what. Not when he obviously wasn't ready to tell me. I ran my fingers through his hair, rested my forehead against his. "What are you thinking?"

"I love you."

I smiled, nuzzled against him. "Other than that." Silence. He didn't seem ready to volunteer anything at all. Well, at least he was being honest. From this angle the moonlight fell just right on his face, illuminating it just enough. There were dark circles under his eyes, and I trailed my thumb across one. "You look tired."

He smiled, though it looked a little painful. "I'm alright."

"Then what's wrong?" It was pained, pleading. He was driving me crazy. Had I done something?

He sighed, pressed closer to me. "I suppose I haven't been very subtle; I'm sorry." He looked into my eyes, and the dead seriousness in his made my blood run cold. "I have to leave you tonight."

My breath stopped, and I was certain my heart did as well. No. The world stopped. Leaving…he was leaving…

"_No_! No it isn't like that at all." His voice rose, responding to the dead panic I knew must have been in my eyes. He pulled me fully against him, his lips meeting mine in brief, reassuring kiss. "No. You should know, I will never leave you. But for the weekend…I'm going to have to go away."

He sounded so frustrated, so genuinely pained. Something else was pulling him away, and he wouldn't even tell me what. Clearly, it was important, but it also seemed an unwanted intrusion. This not knowing was going to drive me mad. "Would it do me any good to ask why?"

He chuckled softly. "No, not really." He traced my face with his fingertips, once again serious. "I'm sorry, Esme. Just trust that I'll be back soon. And that I would not leave you if I didn't have to."

"I know that." And I did, with a certainty that ran deep in my bones. I just wished I knew what this thing was he had to do, what had a pull on him that he couldn't ignore. I sighed. "When are you leaving?"

He hesitated, his hand drawing idly on my back. "Soon. Very soon. I wanted to put off telling you as long as I could, but I wouldn't have left without explaining myself, I promise."

Soon. Wonderful.

"I am sorry, Esme. So sorry."

I smiled for him, wondered if he saw how much effort it took. "It's alright, really. Just two days, right?"

"Yes. Just two days." I leaned in to capture his lips, eager to taste him once more. He obliged, and we both fell into the intricacy of it, a soft whimper rising in my throat at the way his hand came up to cradle my head, to tilt it back for better access. He pulled away so very reluctantly, and my heart jumped erratically when I saw him lick his lips, eyes fluttering shut. Could I possibly taste as good to him as he did to me? No. I doubted it, at least. "I should go."

My hands instinctively tightened on his shirt, but I forced them to loosen, to let him go. "Alright."

He moved to pull away, then slid back to me with a groan, capturing me for another kiss, this one more heated than before. My breath was unsteady when he pulled away, and he whispered something I couldn't hear. Suddenly he was standing, cradling my face in one hand. "I love you, Esme."

"I love you, too. I hope…whatever it is, I hope it goes well."

A ghost of a grin flitted across his face in the darkness. "It will. I'll be here Sunday night, though it may be late. You don't need to wait up for me."

"I will." I doubted I could even sleep without him now, but I wouldn't tell him that.

"I know."

Then he was gone in the blink of an eye, so fast I hadn't even seen him leave. Just like he had appeared that first night. Without a trace. Except it wasn't the same, because I knew now that he was no mirage. I couldn't tell myself he had never been there at all, and somehow that made his absence harder. I rolled over, trailed my hand over the indention in the pillow where he had lay only a moment before. His scent clung to it, and I shifted to his side of the bed to bury my face in it, breathe him in.

I knew logically that I should have felt warmer without his cool skin next to mine but that wasn't the case. If anything, I felt colder than ever.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

I didn't sleep that night, not really. I teetered on the edge of it at a point or two, but I was always hanging onto enough consciousness to not get any rest out of it. I had been used to nights with little sleep before, but the past two weeks of good sleep had spoiled me. When the sun rose, I was exhausted. And lonely. I missed Carlisle desperately already.

It was early, earlier than I usually rose. Charles wasn't up yet, I knew. I didn't really feel like breakfast. I just wasn't hungry. After dressing, I decided I could at least put some of the time to good use, rather than sitting here bored. I usually didn't leave the house or do the shopping on Saturdays, so that would have been suspicious. To Charles, at least. But I could pretend to have gone for a walk. It was something he hated, but his response to it was the one point I continually antagonized him on, and he had become almost used to it. I loved it, usually, but I had better plans for today than that, plans that would occupy my mind more fully.

I arrived at the library just as it opened. I was accustomed by now to the looks the man at the desk gave me, the one that said very plainly I didn't belong here. Heaven forbid a woman read. The thought of how Carlisle would respond to that statement made me smile even as it made my heart ache. How had I ever lived without him for so long? Simple, I supposed. I hadn't touched him then, hadn't had the chance to become truly, deeply hooked. Now he was in my every thought, my every breath.

The section I had stopped in on my last visit had rows of very old books; histories, legends and ancient cultures of other countries. The legends part was what I was particularly looking for, though I had already been partially through one volume and found nothing. I wasn't discouraged. I didn't expect this to be easy, or even likely doable. But I couldn't give up without trying, and it was perfect for today. It passed the time.

I pulled the heavy leather bound book from the shelf and let it fall open on the table, flipping to pick up roughly where I had left off. I turned the pages fairly quickly, and soon sort of mechanically. The sound, the feel grew monotonous and I had not slept. Sleep would have felt so good…Carlisle…

And then it was there, and I was glad I had thought the words so many times because even my tired eyes caught them.

**Stregoni benefici**

It was buried in a page on something else, only a brief mention. I skimmed back up to the top, read the title, and felt my heart skip oddly. Really? No. No, I wouldn't have expected that at all. My eyes flicked back down, actually read the small segment within the paragraph.

**There are incongruous tales as well. The most notable I have collected is that of the 'stregoni benefici', literally, 'the helpful vampire'. The legend of this creature or creatures seems to have originated in rural Italy around the town of Volterra many, many decades ago. **

Reading it all, I almost laughed. Only Carlisle, _only_ Carlisle could be called a helpful vampire. Vampire. No, that's one I certainly hadn't expected. But the _helpful_ vampire? Clearly, whoever had started the legend truly had known him. I couldn't imagine him being unhelpful to anyone except the devil himself. Vampire. And I could see his point, it would have frightened most people. But I had slept in his arms, fallen asleep with my head on his shoulder, my neck plenty exposed. The most he had ever done was kiss my pulse with the utmost tenderness. In fact, the night I had been injured he had cleaned the blood from my cut with no problems, I realized. And of course, why shouldn't he? He was a doctor after all, and I had forgotten even that for a moment. Well. There was something to that, certainly. Something that this didn't explain, but it didn't matter, I had a better source, the real thing. I could ask. I was confident that now that I knew I could calm him down about the whole thing. Surely he wouldn't care once he knew that I truly didn't.

And how could he have ever thought I could? Vampire or not, he was my angel. And it was probably stupid, but I didn't care what he had to do to remain here as my angel. I couldn't imagine him killing anyone, but the thought hardly even crossed my mind for a second, to be honest. As terrible as it may have been, when it came to him I just didn't care. All that mattered was him, and him staying with me. So long as he was alive, I didn't care what else might have to be sacrificed for that to be the case.

At least now I knew. As strange and shocking as it was, I knew. The curiosity was finally quiet.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

When I got back home, the door was open. I stepped through the door cautiously, heart thudding in my chest. I told myself it was unnecessary, that I worried too much. But something was different, and if there was anything I had learned in my time with Charles, it was that different wasn't usually safe. I heard voices near the top of the stairs, moving closer by the sound of it and I stepped to the side, winced as my leg made contact with a trunk.

A trunk? My trunk? The one I'd had since I was a girl, the only piece of luggage I'd had when I'd first moved in with my new husband? Luggage? My heart made some sort of sickening flop, the kind of motion it would make when trying to speed up and fall rapidly all at the same time.

"Yes, just there in the hallway. We'll only be taking the clothes tomorrow, of course." His voice. And the other two belonged to young men, servants by the look of them.

No. No, no, no, no, no. "Charles?" I tried to avoid speaking to him whenever possible. The word came out higher than I expected, a little hoarse too.

He smiled brilliantly, stepped down the remaining stairs to come stand by my side. I shuddered. "My darling, you're back." Then his hand was on my back, his lips on my forehead. It was all I could do not to pull away in revulsion. He felt too warm. Sickeningly so. I hadn't realized then just how little he'd touched me lately. It had been wonderful, but I hadn't thought about how bad of a thing for me that had really been. I was used to him, before. I could handle it, stomach it. Now I was accustomed only to Carlisle, to kisses and touches that I craved. Readjusting to this would be misery.

I swallowed, forced my voice steady. "Yes. I went for a walk in the park. Charles, might I…why is our luggage here?"

He smiled even wider if it were possible, and the glint in his eyes truly did make me shiver. "Because we're leaving, tomorrow. A friend of mine from the war offered me a job with his company in Madison, management position. Excellent offer. We've been finalizing it, and he's convinced me the sooner I start the better. Wonderful man, very wealthy. His old family home is very large, and we'll be staying with them temporarily. He sent these good men over to pack our basic necessities." He was grinning, far too close to me, and that alone was enough to make me want to scream. But it was nothing, nothing compared to his words. Leaving? Leaving? Tomorrow? Why, why, why hadn't I been paying better attention?

"You…you didn't tell me."

His smile turned almost wicked, as close to it as he could come in company. Wherever he might be seen by strangers, he was the model husband. "I didn't want to stress you with worry about the details, my dear. You needn't be concerned, it's all sorted out. We leave on the train tomorrow morning."

"Charles-" I don't know why I was trying to protest when I knew so clearly it wouldn't work, but my heart was screaming and my throat refused to be controlled. He gripped my wrist hard, still trying to be subtle but applying almost crushing force. I winced.

"I really don't think a walk was wise this morning, darling, you feel rather warm." His hand came up to my forehead, pressed a little too hard against it. "You aren't well. Perhaps you should lie down. Go to your room." And it was amazing how, in that context, it sounded like genuine concern. I could see past the icing, the thin veneer of gentlemanly behavior. It was an order, not a request. When he released me I moved quickly, eyes downcast to appease him.

Moving. Moving. I shut my door, leaned back against it. The world was spinning. I could hear the men's boots in the hallway, the scraping of what was probably the last trunk on the wood. I already knew without checking that he would have packed all my things first. If I had even considered leaving, he would have been trying to make it as hard on me as possible.

My mind wasn't quite working right, but I was fairly sure nothing was. I could hear very acutely, but even the processing of the sounds seemed to slow. My awareness of myself came even slower. It was ages before I realized I had slid to the floor just behind the door.

Carlisle. Carlisle. No, this wasn't fair, it wasn't right. I couldn't have just found him only to lose him now. What would he think when he came back and I was gone, my room empty? My heart spasmed painfully and I let out a strangled noise unfamiliar to my own ears. For the first time in my life, the pain was too great for tears. This transcended everything, every fear I had ever had. This fear was monumental, debilitating.

From where I lay on the floor I could see the sun, then the moon march across the sky.

I did not get up.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Charles wasn't speaking to me, and that was unusual, for public. He was always such a good husband when the world was watching. This morning, however, I had angered him enough that he didn't even want to keep up the pretence. I should have been afraid. Petrified. I couldn't find it in me to care, not in the slightest.

He had come to my room, knocked and knocked for around five minutes or so. Strangely patient, for him. I could hear him, feel the vibrations of the knocks from the door my back rested against. When I had slumped to the floor the day before I had ended up curled into a ball, and I hadn't moved since. Even if I had wanted to move I was stiff, frozen. But that was just an excuse, because I hadn't wanted to move. What I wanted, however, had never and would never be the issue where he was concerned.

He had shoved through the door, knocking it into me hard enough to cause pain I also didn't care about. He had wrenched my listless body to its feet, and for the first time I had fought him, if sort of passively. Still, he hadn't taken well to it, and he had kept a vice grip on some part of me all the way to the carriage and all the way to the train. He had released me then, and I could feel the bruises starting to throb under my skin. It was a welcome feeling.

It was snowing outside, and I let my head fall against the window. The glass was cold, ice cold. My mind flipped back five days, and in it I was in my old bed, head tucked into a familiar cold neck, my angel's arms around me. The cold, hard skin of his neck hadn't felt so very different from this.

I was still unable to cry, which I suppose should have been good considering who was watching. I still felt even unable to scream, though it felt like it was coming. It would be funny if it chose to make its appearance somewhere crowed, like at the train station. Once I started screaming, I probably wouldn't be able to stop. Perhaps he would kill me quickly then, and this would all be over.

I closed my eyes, fell into the rhythm of the train clacking. It sounded like a background rhythm, the music cold and dark. Exhaustion tugged at me, and I wondered which way I would go. I wondered if I was as yet capable of sleep. I squeezed my eyes tighter, forced myself not to focus.

When the glass under my forehead warmed, I moved my head until I found a cold spot again.

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Poor Esme. I do hate hurting her. :hugs:

And I'm so sorry this wasn't posted yesterday, it should have been….but it ended up only half done last night, because I'm an idiot and had to write the religion paper I had been putting off…and continued to put off until this morning, really. And now, I'm really sleepy so….yeah. sleep.


	8. Return

Wow, thanks to everyone for all the wonderful reviews! I love them all dearly.

I'm so sorry this took so long…it was a holiday weekend for me, and I ended up being more busy than I thought. And sleep has still been catching up with. And that infernal thing we call homework. :sigh: But it should have been up for sure Wed., and I'm sorry it wasn't. I heard the news about Midnight Sun that day, though, and I was….devastated, to be honest. And I had to read some of it. Which only made me realize exactly what we're all now missing because some dipshit is a complete and total dumbass. Yes, sorry for the rant. And excuse the language, but I can't help it. I'm fucking pissed off. And I couldn't write like that, even though I had every intentions of finishing this chapter then. Again, I'm sorry. I'm sure this'll be finished and up tomorrow(I hope), but know that I'm still mourning the loss of Midnight Sun, so forgive me if this isn't up to the usual standard.

After writing that, I realize some of you may not have heard. Well, it's all on Stephenie's website but the thing is this: some dumbass distributed the first 12 chapters of the manuscript online, and she's so upset she says she can't finish the book now. and that it's on hold "indefinitely", possibly/probably forever. Those first 12 chapters are posted. I stayed up last night reading bits and pieces of them…and it only makes it hurt more. Because it is more amazing than I ever dreamed. And we're being cheated out of the rest of it, just because of some stupid jerk.

Alright, end rant. On with the story.

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**Carlisle**

I didn't realize until I left just how hard it would be to be parted from her now. it had not been this hard the first time, certainly. That seemed another lifetime ago now, in fact, another person entirely. Our kind were so permanent, so enduring that change shocked us, altered us profoundly. Before I had been only Carlisle. Now I was Esme's mate. The difference was slight but profound, a pull both emotional and physical that pained me more every step I took away. Pulling myself from her arms to hunt had been almost unbearable, but I had to go.

After all my work at desensitization I hardly noticed the thirst anymore, so long as I hunted on a regular basis. I had stayed with her as long as I could, until my throat had started to burn. It had been a month since my last hunt. My self control was strong enough with her I knew, but I could never know when my services as a doctor could be needed elsewhere. It was my responsibility to be ready, and whether I was capable of resisting or not, it made more sense to be well prepared.

Still, with the way her….husband was, I could not leave her unprotected. If he drank too much, became too angry, went too far and I wasn't there to save her I would never forgive myself. So, I left Edward on somewhat reluctant guard duty and took the train north, almost to Canada. I could run the rest of the way. I intended to hunt well, to ready myself to stay by her side as long as possible. Besides, my last hunt had been only deer and I wanted something else, something more substantial.

Something like the wolverine I was watching now, making his way through the snow under the pine tree I clung to. His heartbeat was strong, anxious. He could smell me, but he wasn't sure from which direction. He raised his head, testing in the other direction, and it was the perfect opportunity. I pushed off from the trunk, fell easily 10 feet or so. He was not hard to catch.

When I was finished I lay his body down, closed his eyes. A little respect was always important, at least to me. Even Edward didn't really understand it on my level, though he came closer than anyone else. I could not live without what was, to me, basic decency and respect. I had had it when I had hunted as a man, and it would never leave me. Not a drop of blood had been spilled on the 

snow and I smiled slightly. If a trapper found his body he would be supremely puzzled as to what had killed him.

I felt better immediately, the burn in my throat almost entirely gone already. Still, I wanted more, more than I needed. I didn't want to leave her again for a long time. The moon was rising. Saturday night. I had another day, and I would put it to good use. I had caught the trail of a lynx that morning before crossing the one of my wolverine. It would be simple to backtrack and find it. He was farther, which was why I had passed the trail up in the first place though it would have been my preferred prey. Still, I didn't want to take the time to search another one out.

I ran back, watching the moon all the way. Only one more day…

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

I followed Edward's trail into town. He had been to the library, probably on Saturday as the scent wasn't quite as fresh. I could smell her there, too and I couldn't keep from grinning. I was home. I surged forward, forgot the trail and ran straight back to the townhouse on Pine Street. I scaled the wall easily, too intense, too focused on my goal to notice anything else.

Details like the fact that there was no heartbeat, no steady rhythm of her breathing. The room was empty. My chest constricted painfully, a rippling growl sliding from my lips before I could even think to control it. Mine. She was mine. Mine, and _he_ had her. Logic told me I had to allow it, that I could do nothing but allow it. My hands trembled with rage and I balled them up, forced myself to find some measure of calm. Deep breaths. There, that was better. I knew this was going to happen, sometimes. As long as she…as long as she chose to live like this, I would have to manage. I would have to adjust. I would have to share her with that Godforsaken bastard. And there was nothing I could do.

A sickness incredibly familiar to nausea took the place of the rage but I swallowed it down, forced it back. Well. I could at least check on her. Even if it hurt me, I could at least make sure she was alright, make sure he hadn't hurt her too badly. Yes. I would check, then I would spend the rest of the night feeling the images burn into my brain for all eternity. I really must be a masochist to have fallen in love with her. Deep down perhaps, somewhere in my unconscious. It was amusing enough to bring a grim smile to my lips.

I eased down the hallway, utterly soundless. I was hyper aware but not hyper focused, and though I noticed before I reached the door it took me longer than I should have. There were no heartbeats. Not in there, not the in entire house. No one was home, a fact I would have noticed as soon as I had entered if I had not let my emotions run away with me. I whirled, breath ceasing, eyes wide. No one. Where had they gone? Where had he taken her? To visit her parents, perhaps? Where was Edward?

"Here, on my way." His voice was distant, down the street. I swallowed the venom that had risen in preparation for a fight, eased my ready stance and went back into her room, sinking on to the bed. Her scent was here, but a little faded. She had not slept in it since the last night I had been with her. The sheets where molded where she had left them, curled to the side. I could see how she had moved, see where her arm had come up to wrap around my pillow, to hold it close. I hung my head and looked away, the sudden weight of mixed pain and pleasure almost unbearable. It was exhilarating to know that she craved me in some measure as much as I needed her. It was excruciating that I could not go to her now.

I heard Edward then on the side of the house and could wait no longer. "What happened?"

He dropped lightly into the room, running the short distance to where I sat in less than a second. "They've moved. He was hiding it from her. I'm sorry I hadn't been around here often enough when he was home, I could have heard him. I could have warned you. I'm sorry."

I growled. He had probably upset her. That was probably exactly what he wanted.

"Honestly, though he is the worst kind of scum imaginable, he didn't expect this to upset her as much as it did. He didn't think she would care too terribly much one way or the other, though he did anticipate a little bit of resistance on moving farther from her family. Don't worry, he doesn't suspect you, not really. Oh he questions whether she found someone while he was away, but even he doesn't really believe it. It's an excuse he uses to punish her, and little more." I could hear the distaste in his voice, hear that he hated him almost as much as I did. No would could hate him quite as much as I did. "Yes, I do. Of course I do."

Something he had said at the beginning though…"Didn't expect it to upset her as much as it did….how is she?" He pursed his lips. The pressure on my chest increased a thousand fold. "Edward?"

"She thinks she's lost you. She has no idea, of course, how easy it will for you to find her, how could she? Even knowing as much about you as she does…" Here he smiled wryly and my confusion shot up several notches. "And she knows more than you think, but even so, she doesn't realize how easy tracking her will be. She's terrified she'll never see you again, or at least not for quite some time. She was very…difficult about leaving. He won't be very forgiving of that. She has some trouble in store for her." His voice had turned dark, dangerous, and it was almost enough to make me forget my confusion. "I could be careful, Carlisle. No one would know."

"I would know." And that would be enough. You can't be a killer, Edward. You're so much better than that. Don't do this, don't fall to his level. You're far too good of a man for that.

"So you think." It was quiet, almost low enough that even I couldn't hear. I put a hand to his shoulder, squeezed it gently.

"So I _know_." He doubted himself far too much. He had struggled, yes, but everyone did in the beginning.

"Not you."

Well, that was different. I didn't want to think that I was particularly special but my determination had been apparently incredibly unusual. All the same, Edward was strong, very strong. He had never _truly_ disappointed me. I was very proud.

He smiled a little, let his tense muscles relax, leaned a little more toward me. Even hearing my mind I was certain he could never understand how happy he made me, how much I loved him, how much his acceptance, his love meant to me. But understanding…that brought me back to something else he said, something that had been momentarily forgotten. Edward?

"Yes. She knows….well, something but I won't tell you what. She wants to do that herself." He grinned at me, chuckling softly. "You did choose a very smart one, Carlisle."

Well, I hadn't 'chosen' anything, but I still felt a little pride in my Esme. Of course she was smart, of course. I had known that all along. Still…if she knew…if she ever really found out…

"I can assure you that what she does know has not altered her feelings in the slightest. Just as I can assure you that her love for you is every bit as strong as yours for her…more than I would have expected for a human, to be frankly honest."

Nothing would ever dull the euphoria of those words. She loved me. Esme loved me. No man could be luckier than that, no prize more wholly undeserved but honored all the more because of it. My Esme. My hands ached for her, sharply enough to be a physical pain. I had to go to her. "Where is she?"

"Madison. They're staying with friends at the moment, though he expects to finish negotiations on a new townhouse this week. He won't punish her until he's certain they're alone, though then it will be likely severe. He was very angry when he left."

The venom rose in my throat again and I gritted my teeth, forced it back. I had to think. Madison. It wasn't very far. Far enough that the train would be faster, though. But that wouldn't be running again until morning, and in that case, running would be faster overall. I couldn't wait till morning.

Except there was something, someone I was forgetting, and I felt instantly guilty. "Edward-"

He waved me off, smiling. "No, don't worry about me. I'll bring the car along tomorrow. I can start looking for houses, then we can handle moving together in a few days." His smile widened became more genuine. "I wouldn't have said anything of course, but living in the forest was getting a bit tiring. I'm actually rather glad he decided to move, though I am sorry it's upset her. Still," He nudged me with his arm, gentle. "This is good for you too, Carlisle. You can go back to work."

He was certainly right about that, about all of his points. And looking at it that way, this move really was a good thing all around. Almost all around. It would be, as soon as the bad parts were over. One of which was this increasingly unbearable separation. That one, fortunately, it was in my power to fix. The sooner the better.

Edward nodded. "Yes. Go to her. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Alright." I hoped he would be careful. There had been no others of our kind around, but still….leaving him alone still troubled me, and not just because he was still young. There were others that did not take so kindly to our lifestyle, that had a harder time respecting our territorial boundaries.

He rolled his eyes. "I'll be careful, I'm not a child."

No, no of course not. Except that somehow, he had become mine.

He softened, then. "I'm fine, father. Go on."

I loved hearing him say that, and he knew it, knew it would get me. But that was alright, he could use that weapon against me. Because I knew also that he meant what he said, and that made the manipulation bearable. "Alright. You'll be fine, no need for me to worry. Tomorrow night then."

"Yes."

I dropped out of the window, running when I hit the ground. I should probably have been more careful, checked the area first. I wasn't thinking 'careful'. I was thinking only of her, my Esme. She filled my every thought now, my every sense. I could almost taste her already, though I knew the memory of her taste on my tongue was but a ghost of the truth. Memory could do her no justice. I pushed myself harder, inched up the run a notch. I could not get there fast enough.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

I had expected her to be upset. I was ready for it. But I had not been prepared enough.

Edward had chased me down only minutes outside of town to give me the address so I would not have to waste time tracking her from the train station, and for that I was very grateful. It saved minutes, and minutes were something. All the same, I did not make my way to her window until 5:30, the sky lightening behind me.

The first thing I heard was not her familiar heartbeat, but her tears. She was crying. There was nothing, no sound I had ever heard of would ever hear in all the world that felt the same as that. It defied description, the way my heart shattered in that moment. A pain I had not even known I could feel, extreme beyond belief. The agony made worse by knowing she was crying for _me_. I was frantic, beyond all thought of startling her, of anything but stopping her tears. I didn't stop to think if she was alone, no thoughts to safety whatsoever before I scaled the wall and slid in her window. Luckily, she was alone. She was facing the wall, curled up in the center of the bed, sobbing quietly. Tiredly. As if she had been at this for some time. I cursed myself for not being fast enough, for not being at least as fast as Edward.

I was at her side in a heartbeat, sliding onto the mattress behind her to wrap my arms around her small, warm body. "Hush, beloved. I cannot bear to hear you cry." I didn't realize until then that even my appearance could frighten her when it was sudden. I had forgotten that. For one tense second I thought I might have scared her. She gasped, tensed, then at the moment when was considering letting go she turned, threw her arms around my neck, her face buried in my shoulder.

She was still sobbing, but I could hear my name intermixed with the tears. She held on for dear life, as strong as her human arms could manage, her body pressed against mine with all her might. She meant to hold me there with everything she could. Absolutely everything she did was endearing. How could she possibly not know that the hold she had on me was already unbreakable? That nothing could have parted me from her, certainly not a few hundred miles distance? I tightened my hold, nuzzled against her hair, underneath it to the warm skin of her neck. Oh, she smelled wonderful. Like wild roses and orchids and wildflowers. I took a deep breath, skimming my nose against her jaw, pressing feather light kisses just underneath. Yes, she smelled incredible. Especially after my absence. Her tears seemed to slow a little then, though her hands still gripped at the collar of my shirt rather shakily and her breath came uneven. "Shh…Esme…everything's alright. I've got you."

"Carlisle…" It was almost a whimper, and it would have been the most arousing noise I had ever heard if not for the undercurrent of fear.

"Shh… It's alright, I promise. I promise." I cradled her head in my palm, pressed a kiss to her temple. "Do you think he could take you anywhere where I would not follow, hm? That I would not come for you, no matter where you were? That any force on this earth could change my love for you? Esme…please, don't doubt my love for you, not ever." It was the strongest thing I had ever felt in my centuries of life, this love for her. And I had seen many things. I had seen this in others, but feeling it…that was something else. I understood the power now, the eternal, unchanging nature of it. Nothing could break this bond.

"It…it wasn't you I doubted, not really. I just thought-"

"Nothing can keep you from me, remember that." I pulled away just far enough to hold her face in my hands. She protested even that distance, her hands sliding around to grip at the front of my shirt, desperately trying to pull me closer again. I calmed her with a soft kiss, felt her body shudder. "Listen carefully." I whispered the words against her lips, hoping she wasn't quite as distracted by that fact as I was. I really did need her to understand this, to understand the finality of it. "There is no force on earth, heaven, or hell that could keep me away from you. Nothing. I swear it. Don't every fear that I won't come for you. Not ever."

She nodded, still trembling. "Carlisle…" it seemed almost the only thing she could say, not that I minded. My name had never sounded so good as it did when she said it. I kissed her then, deeply. I could not help but groan at the taste, the feel. No, my memories most certainly could _not_ do this feeling justice. There was nothing like it in all the world. Almost deliriously hungry, I was soon easing her back, shifting over her when she was flat on her back. I could feel my skin burn wherever she touched me, feel the spark of electricity under my skin at every point I was pressed to her. My lips left hers for only the briefest of seconds before claiming them again, my hands barely conscious of the fact that they had come to rest on her waist.

The fire in me was new, an overriding hunger I had never had need to learn to control. I had seen it, certainly. The clearest I could remember was Marcus and his beloved Didyme, his very soul. I had seen this in their eyes, in their motions, in the way they touched each other before one dragged the other out of sight. And many other times besides, many others. I understood it in theory, and I had seen many beautiful women. But as a force, as an irresistible thing, I had never felt desire. Not anything that could be really be called by that name, not when compared with this.

True to what I had asked of her that first day, she always let me remain in control. It pained me to restrict her, but my teeth were far too much of a danger for her. Still, I could indulge her a little. I pulled her lower lip between my own, sucked at it hungrily. I was not prepared for the _noise_ she would make, the beautiful, soft whimper that seemed to intensify the fire in my veins beyond control. I think I growled; it was hard to be sure. My lips tore away from hers, down her neck. She was panting, clinging to me. Her fingers began shakily to tug on the buttons of my shirt. It was a moment before she freed even one, as much as she shook, but when she did she pressed her warm palm to my bare chest. The pleasure was intense beyond belief, almost shocking. My body trembled, pure heat settling low in my hips.

It was then my self control caught up with me, the me that had been away from her for only two days. Two days that felt like two years. Still. This wasn't right. If it went on much longer, even my self control would probably not be great enough to stop. Especially since she didn't seem to want me to. I was frozen, face buried in her neck, chest heaving. I couldn't….I shouldn't do this. It wasn't right, and no matter how much I loved her, I would not do something of this importance any way other than was right. I couldn't.

The side of me that wanted her, that _needed_ her snarled angrily, screamed that there was no sense in being noble. She wanted this. She wanted me. And besides, all she had ever had was _him_. Certainly I owed it to her to be better than that, to make love to her the way she deserved. And in my argument with myself, that was almost enough to convince me. For a moment I almost believed it. The raging jealousy I felt at the thought of her in his arms, of him inside her, hurting her…the urge to do something, anything to wipe him from her mind, wipe his touch from her body….

It was almost too tempting. But no matter how I phrased it, she was still not my wife. My mate, certainly. But not my wife. And I could not allow myself to do this. No matter how much we both might want it.

"Carlisle…" She had recovered her breath enough to say my name. Pleading. Her body rose against mine, a gasp leaving her lips. Yes, I wanted her. She pressed against me, eager to feel, to be desperately close. Another button on my shirt, both her hands on my chest now. I had never been so tempted. I had never in my life considering deliberately sinning as much as I did in that moment. For a moment, it was almost worth it.

I rolled off of her with a pained groan, my body screaming at the loss of contact. I was dizzy, almost drunk with pleasure. And that had been nothing, nothing compared with what we could do. What I 

wanted to do. She rolled into my side, hand on my chest again. I was getting more used to it, but that didn't mean it felt any less amazing. I almost purred under her touch.

"Carlisle?" It was definitely a question this time.

I sighed. "I can't, Esme." Good. The words came out as a groan, sounding sufficiently despondent at the idea. she needed to know how I regretted, needed to know how desperately I wanted to be with her. "I can't. I'm sorry."

"Why?" Honestly curious, a little pleading.

"Because it…and I know this sounds crazy, but it isn't right. I'm not…I'm not your husband." The word tasted like poison. Even saying it made me feel like scrubbing my mouth out with rubbing alcohol. Or bleach.

She tensed, and I wished I hadn't said anything. "No. No, you're certainly not. You are nothing like him, you never could be. Nothing with you is…is anything like…" she could finish, and for once I was glad. I didn't want to hear what it was like, with him. I didn't want to hear how he hurt her, what he did. The more I heard, the closer I would come to giving in, for her sake. And I didn't' want that.

"I'm sorry. I just can't. You understand, don't you?"

She smiled, sad. "Of course. You're a gentleman. I just…I would like to know. What…what it would be like." She hid her face, blushing, unable to say it more directly. But oh, that had been hard enough. Harder than she knew, harder than I expected. My heart ached. Something she wanted so desperately, something I should be able to give her. She already had me, forever. But this…

I tipped her chin up, forced her to look at me. "Listen to me. One way or another, you will be my wife." And I was suddenly certain of it, though I didn't know how to get Charles out of the picture. "And that day cannot come soon enough." No, tomorrow wouldn't be soon enough. Perhaps his new job was dangerous…

"And if…" Her question hung in the air, but I understood it perfectly. If time passed, if that didn't seem possible, no matter how much I wanted it to be…

I cupped her cheek, stroked my thumb across her skin. "I will ask you to leave with me again and again until you say yes. If…if you never do, if it seems things with Charles will stay the way they are…" Was it worth my soul? Was it worth hers? The force of the pleading in her eyes was impossible, the way her fingers curled against my skin…. "If that happens, yes, I will give you anything. Everything." Yes, she was worth going to hell for. Though whether it was worth her going to hell was another story entirely. Still, I could not permanently deny her anything she wanted this desperately. Certainly not when I wanted it too, possibly even more.

She smiled, ducked her head. "Good." She kissed my collarbone softly, almost shyly. My eyes drifted shut. That felt unbelievably good. "I want you." Soft, mumbled, but still clear. And enough to set my nerves on fire. Yes, I was very glad I had good self control. But should I respond? Tell her the truth? Why not, she knew it already.

"Not as much as I desire you." Never that. She shivered, curled closer into my side. I pulled the quilt closer around us both, tucking it in extra tight against her back. She began to draw idly on my chest with her fingertips.

"Carlisle?"

"Hm?"

She nestled even closer, lay her head on my shoulder. "Stregoni benefici…literally, the helpful vampire."

My breath stopped, my whole body freezing up in horror. She knew. She knew. She really, honestly, knew. Why oh why had I ever thought it would be cute to say-

Wait a minute. She wasn't moving. She wasn't yelling or panicking or…

And Edward said she had known, known I assumed since Saturday and now…

"So tell me, how do you become known as a helpful vampire? I think only you could manage it."

I swallowed, tried very hard to start breathing again. "It's not like you think. Like it sounds. The vampire part I mean, I-"

She laughed, soft. "Can't you tell that I don't care? Well, I mean I care. But I know you're different. I don't know how or why but those are details. I just know that you could have killed me a hundred times if you'd wanted, you've had more than enough opportunity."

"Never." I was fundamentally repulsed by the idea, even more than I was repulsed by killing as a whole, and that was really saying something. "I would never hurt you."

She ran her fingers through my hair, kissed my cheek with her soft lips. "I know. I know that."

"You aren't afraid? I mean, you have no reason to be. None at all, I swear to you. But I thought-"

"No. You know who I fear. I could never fear you, I told you Carlisle." She turned my head, forced me to look at her. The crystal clarity in her beautiful green eyes took my breath away. "You're my angel, remember?"

Her angel. God, Father, how could I have ever been so lucky? To be _her_ angel? I had never done anything in my life good enough to deserve this. All the lives I had saved put together could not have even been this special, this meaningful. "I've never hurt anyone. Not ever, not once. Not even in the beginning. I…I survive in other ways. Animals."

"Really?" she pondered that for a moment, her hand still moving across my skin. "That's interesting. I knew it was hard to imagine you hurting someone, even if you had to. I was right, I just hadn't been able to think of an alternative. So that works?"

"Very well, better than I expected." Not as appetizing according to Edward, but I hardly noticed anymore. After all, human blood held no allure to me, so the most appetizing thing I could imagine was lynx blood. Very good, very tasty. "You're not…bothered?"

She leaned in for a kiss, her hand against my neck. "Not in the slightest." Her lips moved against mine, whispering. Another gentle kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, Esme."

The morning sun was lighting the wall now, golden rays thrown on light blue walls. I thought her almost asleep when she spoke again. "I thought I had lost you."

Tenderly, I combed my fingers through her hair, kissed the top of her head. "You will never, ever, lose me."

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Yay, finished the chapter! This one's a bit longer a think, but that's good…make up for the delay and such.

I'm still so, so, upset about Midnight Sun.

Reviews might cheer me up a little…besides, we all need to support each other at this…time. of wanting to commit murder on someone we don't even know. sigh


	9. Meeting The Devil

Hello! Once again, thank you all for the wonderful reviews! I :heart: them.

Sorry this took so long to get up, guys. This week was kinda crazy. (part of it included my boyfriend winning me a fuzzy dolphin at the fair…whose name is now Carlisle, because he didn't look like an Edward, but Carlisle worked. Hehe)

Anyway, here goes.

**Update**: Went back and edited it, fixed typos and such. Because listening to talks about nutrients in soil gets borrrring...

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**Carlisle**

"Your last place was bigger. And that dog next door is going to get on my nerves." Edward lounged in my chair, feet propped up on the desk we had just moved in. He was grinning, and I didn't take him too seriously.

"You'll get used to the dog. And size isn't so important. This is a nice place for a clinic." And it was, right in downtown Madison. Well, to be perfectly honest there had been more suitable sites up for sale, but it was location that made me pay more for this one, even though there were better places for business. Though they had not yet left the house of his new business partner, Charles was in the process of buying the one only four houses down from here. A distance from which Edward could easily monitor their thoughts, if he was here. The size of the place had made it perfectly acceptable for use as a clinic downstairs and our home upstairs, a perfect setup for my purposes. As long as he was home, I would have some measure of peace of mind.

"I won't be here all the time, you know. There' s a university here, I'd like to take some classes."

Of course. I had no intentions of making him a prisoner to the house. Only that, while he was here, it would be convenient enough that he could keep an eye out for trouble. Only when it was convenient. "That's a good idea, Edward. Do you have an idea of what sort of degree you're interested in?"

He smiled, looked away from me and down at the desk. "Music, of course. But I doubt very much they offer that here."

"Perhaps, you never know. We can look into it, certainly." He was a wonderful pianist already. With practice, I knew he would become incredible.

Suddenly he stiffened, jolting forward in the chair. "Carlisle." His words were choked, anxious, and my own hands tightened on the bookshelf I was leaning on. "Carlisle, you're going to have to hold your temper."

My grip tightened further, and I knew I was leaving handprints in the wood. "What's happened? What are you talking about?" What could have been happening? This was only my first week open. At first, I had hated leaving my vigil over Esme but we had evened into a routine now, and so long as she remained in someone else's house I had thought her fairly safe...

"It looks as if the rumors did the trick."

Good, I supposed, but not what I wanted to talk about at the moment. The upper class had been interested enough that a man rumored to be a new doctor had bought a place in a very expensive quarter of town, had been interested even further when they heard of my credentials. Edward had spread interest in me with the thoroughness he did everything, making sure that word reached Charles' friend's ears, and subsequently his own. We weren't sure anything would come of it, at the time, but now thinking of it, that had to be what this was about. "He's coming here, isn't he?" Well, I could handle meeting him.

"He's very interested. He thinks you might be a useful connection."

I calmed a little, though I was still fuming. My fingers found the edges of the handprints in the wood, smoothed them out. I could handle speaking to the insufferable man. For a moment I had thought-

"You were right."

I stopped breathing, yanked my hands back before I did something stupid like snap the shelf.

"It's nothing life threatening, but it's enough that he knew he would have to bring her to a doctor. He has a story prepared, but it isn't what happened. Not the way he tells it, at least."

The thoughts that tumbled through my head were so chaotic it was no wonder that Edward was by my side in an instant, gripping my arm.

"Can you do this, Carlisle? Maybe you shouldn't-"

"_No._" I took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "No, I can do this." I had to. I didn't really have a choice.

"They'll be here, any minute now."

I nodded, pulled away from his grasp to drift over and take a seat at my desk. Best to pretend to have been doing something. Edward was still watching me warily. "I'm not going to kill him, Edward." My words were clipped, terse, annoyed. I wasn't a killer, I never had been.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did, this time."

"No, of course you wouldn't. But I won't do that." And it bothered me a little that a voice in my head slipped in, _not in front of her, you wouldn't._ I tried to shake that disconcerting thought away quickly, but I was fairly certain Edward caught it based on the look that flickered across his face. "I'm not saying it isn't hard, but I'll be fine. Go on."

He watched another two seconds before nodding, slipping as easily as a wraith up the stairs. "One minute, Carlisle."

One minute. One minute, and he would step in here with her. One minute to make sure I was composed. Was I? Well…as composed as I was going to get. Was I still breathing? Yes, barely.

And there was the knock on the door. I rose slowly, carefully and made my way over to answer it. Plastering my best professional smile on my face I opened the door to greet my own personal devil. "Good afternoon, sir, come in!" It was hard, so very hard to keep my eyes on him when I knew she was behind him. But according to the customs of the time, I should initially keep my eyes on him, the head of the household. It was so very, very hard.

"Good afternoon, doctor!" He held his hand out to me and I took it, restrained the urge to break his fingers again. It would have been sickly satisfying to _really_ break them this time. "Greetings, from a fellow newcomer. There is much talk about you around town, sir."

I smiled even more politely. "You do me great honor, I look forward to keeping a fine, responsible practice here." _And remaining close to your wife, you filthy animal._ Well. Might as well introduce myself anyway. "Dr. Carlisle Cullen, at your service."

He grinned, a sickening sight. "Charles Evenson. Very pleased to meet you, Dr. Cullen" He sighed in what it seemed he hoped was a regret-filled manner and pulled her up beside him. My eyes flickered to her and she looked almost frightened, though remarkably calm. "I wish I could say this was only a social call, and alas I should have come by to meet you before now, but as it is my wife Esme had a rather serious fall on the stairs this morning. You know how women are, insisting on those fashionable heeled shoes." His expression was clearly meant to be conspiratorial, an sign of the exasperation most men shared with women's fashions.

It was a sentiment almost impossible to return, as I was putting all my energy into not shaking with rage. I did my best, and it seemed I managed for he still seemed well at ease. "Yes, things like that can be rather unsafe. Falls can be quite serious." Slowly, I held out my hand to her, willing myself to remember how it was I handled other men's wives. To remember how much I could touch her and it still be acceptable, how close I could pull her to examine her, how long my hands could linger on her skin. "What seems to be the problem, Mrs. Evenson?"

She twitched, just slightly, and I hoped he didn't notice. She bit her lip, looked down. "My arm. It's probably nothing, but Charles thinks it's broken." And it was, and she had to have known. I pulled her right arm ever so gently into my hands, handling her with the utmost care. I felt of the bone, carefully. Seemed a clean break, at least. She hissed at the pain, then bit her lip just as quickly as if to take back the sound.

"Anything else?" And whether there was or not, I sincerely hoped she knew me well enough by now to read my eyes. There had to be something else, because if not I would have to treat her here, where he could watch. And that I doubted I had the self control for.

"My…my back hurts." Maybe it was true, or maybe she read me well. I didn't know, didn't particularly care.

I turned to him with my most dazzling, professional smile. "She'll be just fine, Mr.Evenson, but I'll have to examine her and then set her arm. If you could wait here, it should not take long." Unfortunately.

He nodded, his eyes now scouring my diplomas. Well, let him look. Anything to distract him. "Yes, yes, fine." He seemed fascinated. Well, Edward had told me he had a very simple mind. Very obsessed with money.

"Come along, Mrs. Evenson." I held her arm, still, and she moved almost too close into me as we crossed the room. At least he wasn't watching. We stepped into my exam room, a converted spare room just in the hall on the left. When I shut the door behind us I kept my hand on the handle for a moment, my back to her. I let my careful composure slip, let the worst of the fury make its way through my eyes before I turned to her.

Still, she must have seen something in them. She flinched, looked away. "Please, Carlisle, don't look at me like that. I'm sorry, I didn't want him to come here, I tried to stop him…" Her voice was so small, so frightened.

And I had never been more horrified with myself. To have frightened her, enough that she would flinch away from _me_! As _I_ would strike her! As if could _ever_! The anger left me almost entirely then, replaced with disgust at myself for upsetting her. I stepped forward, slow enough not to startled her, my arms open to invite her in close. "Esme, no, I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

She stepped into me, buried her head on my shoulder. "No, this is my fault, this is-"

"_No._" My voice was firm, almost too loud. I would have to be careful to keep it low. "No, love , this isn't your fault. Don't think it for a moment. I am the one who should be apologizing." I took her face in my hands, kissed her forehead tenderly. "I'm sorry I frightened you. I was never angry at you, not for a second." She tried to wrap her arms around me, then hissed in pain again. I caught it before she could move it again. "Here. Sit on the table, let me take a look at you." Pain medication, first. I wouldn't have her hurting. "And here. This won't take effect right away, I'm afraid, but it will help." Marginally.

She caught my arm with her hand as I slipped the pills into it, her small, warm fingers curving around my wrist. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me for any of this, you know that." At least, she should. She was my world, my existence. Caring for her was second nature.

"No, I know but…thank you for…for handling this. I know it must be very hard for you. I know it would be easier for you to just walk away. To forget me, to forget all of this."

I had turned back to the counter, gathering the supplies to set her arm but I froze, shaken by her words. Could she really still believe that I could walk away? Truly? If so, then I had failed her, had failed to prove my love to her. And though treating her should have been my priority, in that instant her uncertainty won out. I turned back to her rapidly, stepped forward between her legs, my arm sliding around her waist. "Forget you? Impossible. I could easier forget the world, forget everything that has ever happened to me. I could leave anything else behind, anything less important. You are everything. I could never walk away, don't you understand that by now? Esme…" I slid my hand up her shoulder, up the smooth skin of her neck to cup her cheek. "I am yours entirely."

Her heart rate increased, her breath unsteady. "Kiss me." How did she manage to sound so vulnerable and so alluring all at once? So tempting. But it wasn't as easy at that, not really. I wanted very much to kiss her, but if I did I would a hard time stopping, and her arm needed setting.

I sighed, pulled back enough to give myself a little more space, a little distance from her scent and her warmth. "You're a very bad patient, you know." I smiled for her, received a shy smile in return. I traced my thumb across her lips, smooth and sure. "When I'm finished." I reached back to the counter for the plaster and bandages, motioned toward her arm. "Here. Hold out your arm."

She groaned, sighed, then held her arm out for me to begin. After a moment she giggled softly and I looked up at her, my eyes questioning. She laughed a little harder. "It's just that, we've been through this before, haven't we? With my leg."

I chuckled, shook my head. "What is it with you and breaking things?" I sobered up quickly then, losing the momentary amusement. _She_ hadn't done this. I growled softly, under my breath. "How did it happen?" My words were harsh, even to my own ears. I had to pull this under control, I wouldn't frighten her again.

"In a way, like he said. It was the stairs."

"But you didn't fall down them."

Silence, and I knew I was right. My hands shook slightly until she reached over, caught my right in her left. Her gentle touch was soothing, and I squeezed her hand in response, ready to continue. It wasn't long before I was done. She sighed, moved her arm warily. "I hate these things."

"So do most people." I slid the bandages back into the drawer before facing her, leaning back against the counter.

She reached out to me, protesting the distance. "You said-"

"Your back. Does it really hurt?" It very well could, after a fall like that. There could be all sorts of injuries to the spinal cord, the sensitive nerves…but if that were the case, her symptoms would be more severe. Likely. Now a pinched nerve could take some time to-

"Yes. A little. Just a bruise, though."

Oh. Just. Yes, nothing at all, just a bruise from being pushed, shoved, whatever he had done… I sighed, motioned for her to turn around. "Please. Let me take a look." She did as I said, turning to put her back to me. I stepped forward, and my hands had deftly unfastened half the buttons on her dress before I really realized what I was doing. I was so used to being professional that my mind had been in that sector only, had not even registered fully that this was her, my Esme. My hands slowed in response to that thought, undoing the final buttons with more care, more hesitation. When my fingertips brushed her bare back to push the fabric aside she shivered, and I didn't miss that she leaned ever so slightly into the touch. She would, undoubtedly, drive me truly insane.

My eyes raked over her back, quickly found the dark bruise in the middle of it. I stepped back, rifled around in the drawer without looking behind me. My eyes were still roaming, outside of my control. I found myself watching the fascinating minute shifts as she drew breath, then chastised myself for noticing. Yes, she was beautiful. Utterly desirable. This wasn't about that. My hand found the jar and I pulled it forward, twisting it open. Any growing desire for her I had felt faded entirely at the way she flinched when I eased the salve onto her skin. It was clearly very painful already, and it would hurt much more tomorrow. I hung my head, lips brushing against the juncture of her neck and shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Esme."

"It isn't your fault."

No. But I felt the need to protect her, all the same. "Come away with me. We can leave now. I don't care if he figures it out, if he knows it was me. I don't care. We can get out, go far away from here. Anywhere you like." I don't know what made me say it, except that it was a plea I couldn't stop repeating. No matter how much her refusal hurt.

She tensed. "Please. Please, let's not talk about this right now."

A no, once again. I dropped the jar on the table, let my hands fall to her waist. Tried very hard not to feel the sting that had followed her words. "I believe I still owe you something."

She shivered at my breath against her cheek, leaned into my chest and tipped her face up to me. I could feel the heat of her skin so much more acutely with only my shirt between us. "Yes. You do."

The kiss was slow, intimate, fascinating at this new angle. It was different, and I liked it very much. I wanted nothing more than to continue, to pull her hips farther back against mine and just keep kissing her, but at the moment that wasn't possible. I pulled away reluctantly, nerves tingling at the sigh of protest that escaped her. "Later, when it's safe." Safer, at least. I stepped back far enough to get some clarity, fingers swiftly buttoning her up. "Now. Be careful with that arm. Don't move it much. And I'll need to take that off in two weeks, alright?"

She nodded, swinging lightly down from the table despite her impairment. "Alright, Dr.Cullen."

The way she said it sounded like a caress. Oh, how I longed to pull her back into my arms. Preferably while that ass was watching. I could guarantee that _he_ had never made her sigh like I had only a moment before, like I always could. Some primal part of me very much wanted him to know that, to know just how fully he had failed.

"Carlisle." Edward's voice jolted me, and I grabbed her good arm to stop her.

"Yes?" She looked so puzzled that I smiled. "Edward. Upstairs."

"Carlisle, he's very much in awe of you. He thinks you would make a beneficial friend. If you play this right, you could be seeing a lot more of her."

Instantly, there was an internal war between my head and my heart. Could I do that, could I pretend to be that vile creatures friend? Could I do it for her sake? I almost snarled, the rage in my throat almost as hot as the thirst had been in the beginning. Could I?

"Carlisle?" It was her voice, that time. Her hands on my arm, gentle. Concerned.

"Yes, everything's fine." And I knew, then, that I could do it. If I had to, if it would mean more time with my beloved, I could do anything. Even this. I smiled for her, kissed her forehead. "Everything's just fine." I stepped back to a more appropriate distance, took her arm only enough to steady her, as would be acceptable. "Come." I opened the door, steeling myself inside to make friends with the devil.

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I can't imagine being in a situation like that…I don't think many people would have the self control(I know I wouldn't), but then Carlisle kind of kicks self control's ass. hehe


	10. Pieces of a Melody

More continuous thanks to my WONDERFUL readers/reviewers! Every one of you makes me sooo happy. :hands out m&m cookies:

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**Esme**

"Turn around, let me look at you."

I repressed a shudder, turned slowly enough to let Charles look as long as he wanted. I used the opportunity to take my own look in the mirror as I turned, to appraise the way I looked in the evening gown. Pretty good, all things considered. I had never been beautiful, but the dark green in this one went fairly well with my eyes. I ignored Charles greedy eyes in the reflection, blocked them out entirely. I could think of how the golden eyes I loved would light up when he saw me tonight, could only hope that he'd be able to keep his cover. Which, of course, he would. Carlisle was meticulous. Sometimes, too meticulous. It would have been nice to dance with him at one of these ridiculous things, just once. "How do I look?" As if I really wanted him to tell me.

"You'll do. Come on." He reached for my arm, pulling my along toward the door. If there had been one benefit to injuring my arm the month before, it had been that he had handled me more carefully, more hesitantly since then. But I knew that would last only until my arm was fully healed. The cast had come off two weeks ago, but Carlisle had warned against strenuous activity for another two. He was overcautious in his estimate, doing his best to extend my reprieve as long as he could. My Carlisle…

He had done such a good job, really. Better than I would have ever expected, better than I think I could have done if our places had been reversed. He had slipped into his role as a rich doctor, friend to the locally influential men. Charles was aspiring to include himself in that category, and as such he expected that a friendship with Carlisle could only advance him. I could not imagine how hard it was for him to be civil, friendly even, with the man he hated the most. I knew only that I had seen the look of utter hatred in his eyes once, and I never wanted to see it again. It did not belong on his face; he had too much goodness in him. He did not need to fall to that level, to give in to that sort of destruction. I could hate Charles enough for both of us. Well, Edward and I could, at least.

Another added advantage of our new surroundings was that I saw more of the mysterious young man, especially on the nights Carlisle took me out and to the clinic across the rooftops after dark. I could sit with them there like a real family for a few stolen hours. Given our close proximity, Edward could use his extraordinary talent to ensure Charles remained sound asleep, and to give us plenty of warning when he seemed close to waking. Getting to know him, I had found he was not as sullen and distant as he had once seemed, was instead a warm, loving boy with quite a wonderful sense of humor. Not to mention, he was the most beautiful musician I had ever heard. I loved him dearly, but I had not realized how deeply that love was returned, not until the night following the afternoon that Carlisle had finally removed my cast.

I blocked out everything from Charles to the scenery going by outside the window, remembering that moment.

_I flexed my arm hesitantly, both ecstatic to move it again and hesitant at the uncomfortable pull in the muscle that came from disuse. He was so quiet it was a moment before I knew he was at my side, and the shock was enough that I almost jolted away. _

_Edward's hands were gentle as he lifted my arm, fingers trailing feather light down the length of the bone. "How do you feel?"_

"_Oh, it's fine now. Everything's alright." _

"_Everything?" He raised his eyebrows at me, eyes incredulous. _

_I bit my lip, searched the room for Carlisle. He was gone, still upstairs finding a book he wanted to show me. I opened my mouth to speak, then shook my head when I realized I didn't have to. No, everything wasn't ok. I was worried that Carlisle was angry at me for not leaving with him, worried that if he wasn't now, he would be someday. I was afraid at how long it had been since Charles had come for me at night, terrified of when he would return, of the effect that would have on Carlisle. _

"_Esme." His smile was crooked, heartwarming, but it didn't reach his eyes. I could see in them the same cold rage I had seen only once in my angel, an ice-like fire. "Did you ever notice that none of your worries are for yourself? Aren't you frightened?"_

_No. Not for myself. I could handle whatever I had to handle, I had had years to adjust. I was in constant fear for Carlisle because of what I knew beyond any doubt. I asked too much of him on a daily basis, and one day it really would be too much. _

"_While I can't deny this is harder than anything he has ever done, he is strong. And he loves you more than anything, more than life. You shouldn't worry about him, he'll be alright." He leaned forward, brushed his lips against my forehead. "Worry about keeping yourself safe, hm? That's the only thing that would hurt us now." _

_Us. Hurt us? _

_He laughed softly, brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Truly, do you think so little of me as to think that I don't love you now?" _

_No, no of course not. And thinking of that what, how could I? It wasn't doubt, really. But I was inexperienced at this, at having a real family that loved on basis other than duty, that loved unconditionally. I had always claimed that trait for myself, but I had never found it in others. Not until now. _

_He stood back, took my left hand in his and tugged me to my feet. "Come on. I want to show you something." _

_I followed him upstairs, past Carlisle's small library and into his own room at the end of the hall, where he kept his piano. It was an upright, old and beautiful, though he had told me many times he had plans to get a full grand one day. He motioned towards a seat by the window and I settled in, pulling my legs up to sit cross-legged and rest against the back. _

_He began to play without any introduction, his hands sliding effortlessly through a composition so full of notes my jaw dropped. It rolled and flowed as effortlessly as a waterfall, alternatingly joyful and tinged with melancholy, though never for every long. The speed, the happiness was predominant. It sounded like sunlight composed, breathtakingly beautiful. "I started writing this a few weeks ago, but I only got the ending right last night." He spoke to the keys, not turning to face me. "See, it's the right mixture that finishes it. This part…" One half of the melody, stronger, but missing something without the lighthearted accompaniment. "That part just can't carry the piece through to the end on its own. But when you combine with this…." Light, airy, almost too insubstantial but they came together well, touched on a twinge of sadness once more before ending in a brilliant flurry of sound. "That's a perfect ending, the perfect mix of them both." _

"_It…it's absolutely beautiful." _

"_Thank you. It should be, if I did it right." His hands rested still on the keys, the hum of the melody still ringing in the air. "It's you and Carlisle, the way I see you at least. Beautiful apart, even more so together." He turned then, smiling a smile so gentle my whole chest ached. "I'm very glad you liked it." _

"_I love it!" My words were choked and I reached up to brush tears away on the back of my hand. It was impossible to think he could have ever written something so wonderful for me, for us. Absolutely incredible. _

"_No. Not hard to believe at all. It practically begged to be written, that song. I just gave it notes." _

"_Thank you, Edward." I jumped at Carlisle's voice, turned to see him leaning in the doorframe, the molten gold of his eyes heavy with emotion. Some silent conversation passed between them then, and Edward grinned, crossed the room and clapped a hand on his father's shoulder before slipping out the door and down the stairs. _

"Come, Esme."

So, we were there. I shook myself from my thoughts, took Charles arm as I stepped from the car. It was so much more repulsive now than it had been before, holding on to him. I missed Carlisle's cool arm beneath mine, his hard skin. I could hear the loud music blaring as we made our way up steps lit by flickering gas lamps. Women weaved along on their husbands arms or alone, brightly colored beaded dresses glistening. I drifted away from him in the entrance hall, grateful that he had been pulled away by some steel factory owner with a box of cigars. I drifted to the main dance hall, took up a glass of punch probably laced with illegal alcohol and took a tentative sip. Well, it tasted good at least. My eyes were following the dancers when I felt him brush against me, reaching over me to take his own glass.

"Why Mrs.Evenson, how lovely to see you here." His eyes sparkled as he stepped back, raising the glass to his completely perfect lips. How he could make himself drink it I'd never know. From what Edward had told me, the stuff tasted terrible to them.

"Why thank you, Dr.Cullen. Have you seen my husband this evening?" Hopefully not, he was in a better mood when he could avoid Charles as much as possible.

"No, I have not yet had the privilege. Is he outside, perhaps?"

I stepped away from the table and toward the wall, leading our conversation to a bit more private sector. "I'm not sure where he is, actually. He left with a man I've never seen before, someone very important, or so he told me." I smiled for him, rolled my eyes. My contempt for Charles ladder climbing was fair game, even in public. Most wives could at least be disinterested in the social workings of men. We stood for a time in silence before I spoke again, softly. "And how is business, Dr.Cullen?"

He smiled, gentle, disarming. "Well. Growing every day, I'm happy to say." He shifted his stance, used his move to bring himself close enough to me momentarily for a low whisper. "Edward's here."

My heart jolted a little, and I fought the smile that threatened to take over my face. With Edward here, we could take a little bit more of a risk, linger just a little longer together. So long as no one was suspicious… "A very large crowd here, tonight."

"Mm, yes."

I swallowed, tapped my finger on a now empty glass. It really was very, very crowded. We wouldn't be noticed, I was certain of that. Would now be a good time to ask him? Maybe my only good 

chance… "It really is a shame Charles got pulled away from me already, I haven't danced in ages." I turned to him, eyes pleading. _Please, Carlisle, please…it'd be so much fun…_

He tensed a little, has hand tightening slightly on his glass. His eyes cut to the left, then, and I followed his gaze, found Edward standing in the midst of a crowd. The woman next to him was giving him an appraising stare but he was paying her no mind, his eyes on me and Carlisle. He nodded, in his way. Eyes up to the ceiling first, then slightly to the side and down, as if he were simply looking down the wall. Seemed fine to him, then. And besides, men danced with other men's wives all the time, as a social courtesy. It was entirely innocent. Or, at least, it would look that. He sat his glass down on the bottom of the column next to us, held his hand out to me. "Well, then, Mrs. Evenson, may I have to honor of escorting you for this next dance?" He was smiling, his expression positively dazzling.

"Yes, Dr. Cullen, you may." I followed him onto the floor, my heart pounding even more erratically as his hand came to rest lightly on my back, pulling me as close as he dared. Silly, in a way, how my heart was almost beating out of its chest. I had been far closer to him than this, far more intimate. But there was something about the public nature of it, something about being with him in front of everyone. More than that, something about the very dance itself, something so mundane but something we were forbidden. A simple thing, a little thing. The kind of thing that would have been so very common if I were completely his. Perhaps that was why the thought was so intoxicating.

He dipped his head close, still distanced though I could feel his breath ghost across my ear when he spoke. "You look lovely tonight, my dear."

"As do you." And he did, of course. Ravishing. His suit was perfect, impeccable. As it always was. "He's not here, is he?"

He stiffened, and I wished I hadn't brought him up. "No. Upstairs." And there was something to his tone that puzzled me, almost as if he were trying to get me off the subject more quickly than normal. "I probably won't be the last man in here to ask for a dance from you. You truly are stunning."

I smiled at his kindness, looked down. "Only to you."

"Absolutely not." He twirled me around, brushed his cheek against mine. The contact sent a thrill through my body, an electric tremor I knew he could feel. Our eyes met, sharing the joy of it. "You might not should have tempted me into this, you know. I might not be able to let you go."

"I'd be alright with that."

"Would you?" His eyebrows rose slightly, his voice a soft mutter. I realized quickly what he was really referring to, but before my happiness could fall too far he squeezed the hand he held, ran his thumb over my skin. "I'm sorry, forgive me." He smiled, brilliant, and I couldn't worry anymore. This was too wonderful.

The song ended far too soon and I let him lead me off the floor, releasing his arm so very reluctantly. "Thank you, Dr.Cullen." _Thank you, thank you, thank you. That was wonderful, Carlisle._

"You are most welcome. I would be a fool indeed if I passed up the chance to dance with a beautiful lady." Always the most eloquent gentlemen. He pressed a glass into my hand, either his or mine. His voice was low, almost too low for me to catch even from only inches away. "No one is suspicious, but Edward feels as I do that it's best not to push it. I must leave you now."

I tried to pretend I wasn't crushed by the brief separation, nodded without looking at him. "Tonight?" it was small, as soft as I could make it. Still too loud to my ears, after hearing his. No one could be quiet like Carlisle.

"_Of course." _

And then he was gone, and the party became as infinitely boring as the hundred others I had been to before it. Still, that didn't matter as much, now. At least the beginning had been wonderful. I wandered until I found a setting area, settled down and blended vaguely and occasionally into the conversation, my thoughts still out on the dance floor, still in his arms…

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Mm, I like this _much_ better." I pressed my lips to his bare shoulder, my body nestling as closely as possible into his embrace. I smiled against his skin at the way his breath caught, at the low hum I could feel from his chest.

"Yes. So do I." He nuzzled against my hair, his hold on me tightening.

I had been right, of course. I had known that I could get him to make a few small concessions here and there, if I kept at it. And that he wouldn't regret it at all once I had won. I had argued that his shirt was unnecessary, and though it had at first been a losing battle, I had finally won out tonight, had had the immense pleasure of watching him shrug first his suit coat then his white shirt off and onto the floor. His pale chest gleamed in the moonlight, perfectly muscled and oh so beautiful. The glimpse I had had of him before had not done the full picture justice. I traced my hand across the planes of his skin, felt the twitch under the skin as my fingers skimmed lightly over his stomach. He felt wonderful, incredible. True, that this only fueled my desire to see _all_ of him…but I had pushed his boundaries enough, for the time being. "That was fun tonight."

"Yes, it was. Edward even enjoyed himself; the musicians were quite good."

I slid one hand behind his neck, ran my fingers through the fine hair there. It was soft, a comforting feeling. "So, where did you learn how to dance? All the women in that room must have been unbelievably jealous."

He chuckled, brushed his lips against my ear. "Here and there. Personally, I think I enjoyed the style of early 1800's England the most, but that's just my taste. The dances were more involved then, more elegant."

"I could have never remembered it all. All those ballroom dances…"

"I would have helped you."

I pressed my body fully against his, shifted enough to keep my head against his shoulder at an angle that still gave me a view of the way his bare skin shone in the light. I traced a trail back up, gliding my palm across his skin. When I paused to let my hand rest warming his skin he sighed, let his eyes drift shut. "What are you thinking? Right now."

His lips curved up, though his beautiful eyes remained closed. "Right now? I'm thinking about how utterly good that feels, how nothing has ever felt better. How warm you are." He looked at me, his eyes at their hottest smolder, their most alluring. "How much I love you."

"Not as much as I love you."

"We could argue that all night, I'm afraid. I couldn't let you win that one."

I put on my best expression of mock anger and shock. "Carlisle Cullen! You _let_ me win?"

He winced, shook his head. "Forgive me, my lady, let me rephrase that...that is an argument I would not lose."

I laughed softly, tilted my head at the same time I pulled him down to meet in a kiss. "Much better." I just had time to murmur the words against his lips before he took mine in earnest, his mouth moving hungrily against mine. I sighed into the kiss, tugged gently on the strands of hair between my fingers. I was pressed against his cool chest, his arms wrapped solidly and comfortably around me. This was undoubtedly a piece of heaven.

He pulled away suddenly, jerking back. The hiss that escaped him then chilled my blood, and for a moment I think I knew how it would feel to be his prey. He calmed that initial reaction quickly, but before I could question him or even think straight he had easily broken my grasp and was out of my arms and out of bed entirely, his clothes already thrown over his arm.

"Carlisle, what-"

His hand covered my mouth, his head dipping to whisper in my ear. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I have to go. I love you." Then he was gone, and almost as suddenly I understood why.

There was a soft knock on the door. "Let me in, Esme." Charles. My heart lurched, fluttering with genuine fear. None for myself, not really. I was used to this, I was adjusted. But I knew Carlisle, and sometimes to him 'gone' really meant 'downstairs' or, worse yet, 'in the closet'. _No, no, no, please, God, no…please, he shouldn't have to be around for this. _

Slowly, shaking, I stood to open the door.

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Yes, I know. you hate me.


	11. Too Much

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I know that was a mean way to end that chapter…and I can't promise you fluff in this one to make it better. :ducks and runs:

:yelling from a distance: but thank you all very much for the reviews!!

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**Carlisle**

No matter how often I had told myself to be ready for this, thought that I was ready for this, I had been undoubtedly foolish. There was no getting ready for this. There was no way to prepare, no way to fight the mix of rage and pain, the raw possessive jealousy that I had never imagined could be so strong. I sat on the floor in the library downstairs, head in my trembling hands. It truly was all I could manage not to sprint up the stairs again, to tear him apart. And I was furious with myself as well, disgusted, because I had never wanted to feel this sort of violence but I couldn't help it. I just couldn't.

"Carlisle, come on."

Edward, outside the window. I shook my head, knowing he could see. It was insane, it was crazy, but I could not leave. I needed to, but I tied in some severely twisted way to staying, even if it killed me. They were still talking, upstairs, but that wouldn't last long.

He cursed softly, and I heard the window slide up, heard him slide over the ledge. He crouched down beside me, one hand clamping tight on my arm. "I can watch you beat yourself up only unto a point, Carlisle, and there I lose patience. And you've reached it. This is too masochistic, even for you. I'm taking you home."

"No." It was almost a snarl, a growl building low in my chest. I didn't even care if I was irrational, didn't even care if I fought with him over it. I wanted to be left alone with my misery. I didn't want him to try to make this better; there was nothing that could make it better. "Go. Leave me." I had respected his wishes time and again, he could do this for me.

"You're a little wrong there. _You_ would do _this_ for me. And I can do no less, even if you hate me for it. Come on." His hand latched onto my other arm to pull me to my feet, and for a moment the instinct to fight him rose. That, however, was one step farther than I could go, and I growled almost helplessly, the fight gone out of me. I could not hurt my son. If he was set on this, I couldn't fight him. "I know." His voice was grim, full of regret. "And I'm sorry. But you'll feel better when I get you out of here."

I laughed bitterly, shook my head. No, I wasn't going to 'feel better'.

"Marginally. You will, at least, be a little less tortured. Come on. I can carry you, but this'll be easier if you walk." I let him lead me to the window, almost pull me through it. He remembered to shut it behind us, luckily. He let me go as soon as we were in the door, let me slide down it to rest on the floor. He put some distance between us, leaned back against the desk, tapping his fingers on the edge. Then he was gone, came back with a kitchen chair which he tossed to me. "Here. Tear it apart, you'll feel better."

I laughed a little, tossed it back. "That's your ground, not mine." Dismembering wood would do nothing for this, for the eating jealousy. The _pain_. Still, it was dulled a little with distance. Distance, and lack of knowledge. For now that he had dragged me away I found he was right, that…_that_ was nothing I wanted to hear, nothing I wanted burned into my mind for all eternity.

"That's what I thought." His voice was a low comforting murmur, not at all mocking. He sat the chair down, sat on it backwards with his arms crossed over the back, his chin resting on them as he watched me. I wasn't sure how long he stared at me before he finally spoke again, wasn't even sure if my thoughts tipped him off to anything specific or not. I wasn't even sure what I was thinking. "Why don't you just do it, just tell her you're leaving and there's no other option? You know it's what's best for her, and we know how to disappear. She may be upset for a week or so but probably not even that long. She loves you, she'd forgive you."

Did he think I hadn't thought of doing just that? Because, truly, he was right in the sense that that _was_ undoubtedly in her best interests. But it was something I couldn't do. "Because _he_ takes away her choices, Edward." And I shuddered, realizing that had never been more clear to me than it was right now. "And I will never, _ever_, do that. With me, she will always have a choice. I will never be him, not in any way."

"Even if it's hurting her? Even if you know you could save her if you took her away? Someday, he could go too far."

"You think I don't know that?" I had yelled the words at him, and I regretted it immediately, paused to take a breath, steady myself. "Of course I know that. But I will _not_ take away her right to choose, Edward. I will be whatever she needs me to be, stay wherever she needs me to stay. I will never stop offering, but she will have to take that offer of her own accord. I will force _nothing_ on her." Even the thought was violently distasteful. I felt sick even thinking it; I felt like him. Even if I was right, and I knew I was, I would be relatively silent. And pray that someday she would give in.

I could hear the clock ticking from upstairs and I counted the ticks, tried to clear my mind. It didn't exactly work. It only served to remind how slow time was passing, how empty it was here. Where she was, why I wasn't with her… I groaned, my head falling into my hands. This was incomparable agony. "I have failed her." My words were a breathless whisper, tinged with the sound of the tears I would have had if I had been human.

"What?" He sounded shocked, completely astounded. "Of course you haven't!"

The anger remained below the surface, and it found an outlet now, my body rising in a single movement to my feet, my words violent. "I am her mate! It is my right, my _duty_ to protect her! And what am I doing? I'm hiding, here, while he…" I couldn't say it, couldn't even refer to it. _Esme, my Esme…_ Another anguished groan escaped me, my hands clenching. "I'm letting him hurt her. And the guilt is just as much mine as it is his. More, because she was never his. She is mine, and I should be able to protect her from this." I had started out yelling, but the fury tired of taking itself out on Edward rather quickly, focused into a steady inner burn that punished only me.

I didn't even realize he had crossed the room until I felt his hands on my shoulders, hard to the point of pain. "Stop it." He hissed, his eyes black. "Don't be so ridiculous. You said yourself you're doing this _for_ her! You are guilty of nothing!"

"Being of guilty of inaction is plenty."

"Never forget that I can hear her mind!" His words were angry enough to stop me, to push through my misery a little. He was right, of course. He could hear her, he knew everything she was thinking, everything she remembered. Everything that was happening to her now. "Yes, you understand." He let me go, his hands still rigidly tense. I watched him pace, watched him crush a small wood figure from the bookshelf into sawdust. "That….that _monster_ is nothing like you. I don't ever want to hear you say, and neither would she. You have a right to protect her, yes. And if it were me, I would take her out of here. But you're not failing her, Carlisle." He took a deep breath, looked up at 

me with eyes mingled with a hundred emotions. "You're giving her respect, and that's something she doesn't have. And I think you're right that she needs it."

There was nothing to say that, at least nothing I could think of. and so I said nothing, paced opposite him for a long time until I could no longer stand glimpsing the expression on his face. Knowing what he was hearing, I couldn't stand trying to analyze it anymore. "I'm going out."

That got his attention fully back on me and he nodded, hesitant. "If you must."

Yes, I must. Or I was going to go mad. I hadn't hunted in a while, not too terribly long, but it would do. There was a nice deer herd on the edges of town, a large buck I had seen passing through on my last hunt. He would do nicely.

"Carlisle…" My hand was on the doorknob when he stopped me, and I did pause, though I didn't turn. "I…I would not ask this of you. Except that…"

He fell silent, perhaps changing his mind, honestly deciding not to ask it, whatever it was. My curiosity got the better of me. "What?"

He took a deep breath, let it out slow and a little unsteady. "She wants you."

I wouldn't have thought my heart could shatter again, but it did. "Then I will go to her."

"Carlisle, I…I would be the first to say she needs you right now, but you're exhausted. And this is…" He shook his head. "Almost too much to ask."

Maybe. But I could do anything, for her. And if she needed me, I would be there. I would put her first. _And if you were in love, Edward, you would do the same._ "All the same. I will go to her." Without another word, I slipped out the door.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''

She didn't hear the window slide open, didn't pay any attention. She was crying, and I was reminded forcefully of the first night I had come back. This, however, was very different. She wasn't crying over me, and taking her in my arms wouldn't fix this. I swallowed the lump in my throat, pulled myself in the window and slid it shut. Where the moonlight hit her I could see just forming marks on the side of her shoulder, another that looked horribly like a bite close to her neck. For a moment, I shook with rage and I seriously entertained killing him, right then.

The only thing that saved his life in that moment was the fact that I could hear her sobs. They grounded me, reminded me of my purpose. Reminded me that she was more important than anything, even anger. I moved silently to the edge of the mattress, reached out to touch her ever so gently with one hand.

She flinched, whimpered, jerked away and for a moment I was reeling, too hurt and sick with hatred to even apologize. I recovered, moved to step away from her but she caught me then, hand shooting out to grab my wrist.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry…" She sounded broken, defeated, and I could hardly believe that _she_ thought she needed to apologize to _me_.

I tried and failed a half dozen times before finding my voice. "You have done nothing. I should not have-"

"Please, don't say that." She was shivering, still crying, weak, but she pulled on my arm with all her strength. "Please, hold me."

I had never wished more that I was warm, that I could wrap her up in my arms and at least provide some sort of comfort. She tugged on me insistently, and I drifted forward, let her think she was capable of moving me. I moved onto the bed carefully, slowly, edging my way over to lay on top of the quilt. I wrapped it tighter around her, pulled her gently back against my chest.

But she was shaking her head, still clinging to my wrist. "Closer."

I shook my head, tucked the blankets even closer. "No. You're freezing." She looked disappointed, frightened, hurt, and for a moment I almost gave in. But my argument had been valid; she was freezing. I wanted very much to make the shivering stop, and though I knew it didn't all come from the cold, it would never fade if she was any closer to me. And despite the fact that she had asked me to hold her, the way she had flinched away from my hand was burned into my mind. I would not frighten her again.

She turned in my arms, though her eyes did not raise to meet mine. They were , in fact, squeezed shut, a single tear slipping from her left. "Please…"

Cold or not, I could not resist her. "Yes, of course." I slid quickly underneath the covers and resisted the instinct to pull her body next to mine. Whether she wanted me here or not, she was still frightened. She could move as close as she wanted. She surprised me then by burying her face in my chest, hands twisting into my shirt. She was sobbing, her whole frame shaking with it. _Dear God…_ Edward was right, it was almost too much to ask, being strong for her. I could hardly do it when on the inside I was falling apart just as surely as she was. Still, the knowledge that she needed me gave me strength, and I did not break down.

I made myself forget that she had pulled away from me and responded as I would have naturally. One hand came up to cradle the back of her head, my head dipping to press a kiss to her forehead. I couldn't bring myself to tell her it was alright, could bring myself to say nothing but her name and wordless noises of comfort. It was enough, it seemed, for her tremors lessened, slowly. "I'm sorry, Carlisle."

I swallowed the more colorful words that threatened to make an appearance, kissed her forehead again. "No. No, I won't listen to that. You have done nothing."

"I didn't…I couldn't…I couldn't stop him, I couldn't-"

_No, you couldn't. Of course you couldn't. But I should have._ And all of that was exactly why I felt like my veins were burning, blistering. "Shhh…I know, I know. I'm sorry. Esme, I'm so sorry." So much for strong. My voice wavered and I held my breath, forced myself to calm. Decided that as long as I was apologizing, I might as well give the one I really had guilt for. "I'm sorry I didn't protect you. I should have."

"You can't."

For a moment, I wanted to ask her to leave with me then, to tell her that I could protect her, if she wanted. But that was too much manipulation, too close to what I had sworn to Edward I wouldn't do. "You are my mate. It is my purpose." One thing. One thing I needed to do right in life, and I wasn't doing it. But she was still crying, and this discussion wasn't helping her any. I decided to drop it, lifted her chin up to kiss her eyes. "Please. You're killing me." and I didn't mean to say it like that, really, but it came out and I couldn't stop it. The mark on her shoulder caught my eyes again and I tensed. I didn't want to ask, but the doctor in me couldn't help it. "Are you…did he…" There was no way to phrase this, not really. I couldn't ask he had hurt her, that much was obvious. I couldn't even ask if she had _really_ been hurt because that sounded…diminishing, and _nothing_ was worse than emotional pain.

"No worse than normal." Normal. I flinched and she pressed closer, slightly shaking lips brushing against my jaw. "Sorry." She was still shivering, but she resisted my efforts to draw away from her, only pushing herself closer. "I'm sorry you were here, for that, for…"

"Please, don't." I couldn't bear to hear her worrying about me, not when she was the one who had been through something no one should ever have to endure. She shuddered, shrank closer into me, her tears starting up again. I held her tight, arms locked around her. "Don't be afraid. Don't."

"It was worse than it used to be, now that I know. Now that…"

Now that she had me. And as much as I loved her, as much as I regretted none of it, the thought that I made this harder on her was, for a moment, almost unbearable.

She clung tighter, face pressed into my neck. I could feel her tears on my skin. "I don't know how much longer I can bear this."

_Oh, love. You should have never had to._ "You have only to ask it of me and I will take you away from here. Now. Tomorrow. Any time you wish." She didn't answer, and I didn't push her. I rubbed her bare back comfortingly, mindful that there might be bruises. "You should sleep."

"I…I feel sick."

And probably a good deal many other things she couldn't put into words. I had dealt with rape victims before, though I had never imagined I would need that knowledge in dealing with the woman I loved. "That's understandable. Just rest, then. I've got you."

The words calmed her, and after a few last shudders she slid her arm around my waist, her face pressed into my neck and went still. Her breath never evened out, and I don't think she ever slept, but she did not move until first light.

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I suppose I have no right to call anything else depressing or difficult or cruel after writing that. I really am torturing them, but it's the way it has to be right now…


	12. Doing Something Right

I can never, ever say thank you enough for all the wonderful reviews. I have the most amazing readers ever. :hug:

fixed a couple mistakes, it's all better now. because i was typing fast, and Carlisle definitely doesn't have blood. :headdesk, lol

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**Carlisle**

It was days before I could look at him, two weeks before I could even trust myself to talk to him. There was a nagging voice that reminded me constantly that I had to remain his friend, but the rage was too strong to listen to reason.

The morning afterward, she had let me tend her wounds, probably, I think, because she knew it made me feel like I was doing something. There had been a small measure of comfort in the act, but also incomparable anger. It almost frightened me now, how much I wanted to kill him.

At the thought my hands clenched around the desk and the pen in my right hand. Almost two months after, and though I could now face him and put on a good act, I was thinking of ways to kill him on a daily basis. And lately, I didn't feel like I was just humoring my subconscious. The plans were becoming more formed, too focused. I knew Edward had noticed, knew it by the hard glint I saw in his eyes whenever those thoughts crossed my mind, but he had said nothing and I was grateful. I didn't want to give in to this, but if I did…well, I didn't really want to talk about it. Not beforehand, at least. There was nothing he could say that he hadn't already said. He approved. If I killed Charles, the only opposition I would have would be myself.

And her, of course. Though she hated him, she didn't want me to do it. She didn't want that guilt on me, wanted my hands to stay clean. She could have never understood that my overwhelming guilt for what he was doing to her had put more weight on me than anything else ever could. I was sure I would never be able to shake it, even if I were to live for all eternity.

"He's going out."

At Edward's words I looked at the clock. 10. I would have been heading over soon, anyway…but why was he going out this late?

"I think you already know."

I snarled, disgusted. Yes, I did. A strange sort of relief followed on the heels of that thought and tense muscles in my shoulders loosened to something that was almost relaxed. At the last handful of parties we had attended, he had been keeping company with the widow Dallow. She had a bit of a reputation, but not enough that his socializing with her caught _too_ much attention. But Edward could see his mind, and he had watched him closely, had seen him kissing her the night of the large party when Esme and I had danced, had seen in his mind that he planned to do far more. It was a good thing, really. If he began an affair with her in earnest, then perhaps he would leave Esme alone. Still, I didn't want to tell her, really. She would probably be as relieved as I was, but knowing her self esteem, she would also be hurt. And I could not bear for her to think less of herself than she already did, to imagine herself unworthy of desire. As greatly as I longed for her to escape his notice, the very thought that any could be better than her infuriated me as a basic principle, at the ideas it would plant in her head. He truly was the consummate fool.

I shoved back from the desk rather roughly, grinning a little sheepishly when the chair dug lines into the floor. I sighed, ran my fingers through my hair. "I've been rather rough on this place, haven't I?"

Edward smiled, shrugged. "Not so bad. Remarkably calm, I think. Are you coming back here tonight?"

As much as I loved spending time with both of them, we had done that the night before. Tonight was just ours. "No, not tonight. I'll see you in the morning."

"Alright then." He slid from his seat on the stairs, mirroring my motions toward the door. "Think I'll go hunting. Help you with your appointments tomorrow. None of them sound serious."

I nodded, pleased. "Thank you. I appreciate it." Really, more than the help he offered I just loved having him work beside me. It made me feel undeniable warmth to think that it made him happy, too. "9?"

"First is at 9:15."

"That's plenty of time, then." I gave him a last smile before darting out the door and down the street, quickly making my way up and in her window.

She was waiting for me, sitting up in bed with a book propped against her knees. He smile was so sweet, so beautiful that it seemed to defy all laws by not giving off actual light. "Esme." My first sight of her never ceased to produce this response, the wonder never dulled in the way I said her name. My Esme. She held out her hand to me, beckoning me forward but I did one better and took my place beside her in bed, wrapping my arms around her to pull her against my side, my lips pressing to her hair. "I missed you today."

She snuggled closer, turned a little to leave a feather soft kiss against my jaw. "And I missed you. How was work?"

"It went well. Had a little boy with a broken leg. He quite reminded me of you."

She looked at me with mock horror and hurt. "Carlisle!"

I chuckled, rubbed her arm. "I'm sorry, love, but you just looked so funny when I first got there. Your mother had been yelling and you were so angry, so determined that you had been right…" I shook my head, laughing harder at the memory. She had looked so outrageously furious, not the least bit ashamed.

She tugged away from me. "That's it, let me go."

And even if she was teasing, there was something in me that couldn't hold on to her, even if I should have. My arms loosened and I pulled back a little, a measure of joy fading.

She caught on quickly, her arms wrapping tight around my chest. "I didn't mean it, silly." But her voice was soft, a little pained. "Hold me?"

Gladly. I nuzzled against her hair, breathed her in. I should have been able to joke with her without taking it so seriously, really I should have. But the things I knew, these circumstances… There were some things I knew that had become ingrained. I would only ever touch her as long as I was certain she wanted my hands on her. Any slight doubt about it, and I would let her go. Still, I should know better. Even if I couldn't help it. "I'm sorry."

"Shh." Her small fingers intertwined with mine as she pulled my palm up to rest against her cheek, my fingers automatically curving to fit the face I knew better than any other. "You haven't really greeted me yet you know. That's what you should be apologizing for."

"Forgive me then." My voice dropped to a whisper as I tilted her head back, my breath ghosting across her lips. I closed the distance, my lips moving on hers slowly, tenderly. From there I trailed along her cheek, up to kiss her closed eyelids, feeling them flutter at the touch. "Hello." She laughed a little breathlessly, her hands clutching at my shirt. "Better?"

"Much better." She sighed in contentment, settled in against me. Her fingers stroked against my chest gently, almost absently. My head fell back, eyes closing as I basked in the pleasure of her touch, a low hum rising from my throat of its own accord. I felt her move, felt her lips against my neck. "I love that sound."

I could hear that in her voice, hear the desire there. I bit back a groan, forced the sudden spike in my own desire under control. "Do you?"

"Mmhm. Sounds like…" She trailed off, and after a moment her hand stilled and I forced my eyes to crack open, take in her soft blush. So endearing.

"Yes?" She wasn't about to get off that easy, not when she had made me so desperately curious. Anything that made her happy was a good thing, especially something so instinctive, so natural. It felt almost far too good to know she enjoyed anything of that nature about me. Far too good, because we couldn't take this very far. Or at least, that was what I had continued to tell myself.

She shrugged a little, still blushing. "Like…" Her voice dropped a little softer, whisper thin. "Like I can do something right." She blushed a little fiercer, her eyes still downcast, a soft nervous laugh on her lips. "I mean, I know that sounds silly, but I'm just afraid that-"

I stopped her, fingers pressed against her lips. I was trying so, _so_ very desperately to stop cursing him in my head, because when I spoke to her it needed to reflect _only_ what I felt for her. The disgust for the man that had made her so doubt her own abilities I would keep to myself, hold it in. A little more pent up anger really couldn't harm me, at this point. I cupped her chin, stroked my thumb across her lips. "Esme, look at me, love." She did so hesitantly, eyes still flickering down. "There is no doubt that you can do _everything_ right."

"You don't-"

"I'm sure of it." I smiled, pulled her into me for a warm, deep kiss. Her lips parted easily under mine, and I gave everything over to the warmth of it, the incredible taste, the way her body felt pressed to mine. Her hands found my chest again, alternately stroking and clinging tight to my shirt. We parted to let her draw breath and her lips found my throat again, just where my pulse should have been. She sucked almost hesitantly at the skin there and I tangled my fingers in her hair, moaning softly. And she was worried that she couldn't do this _right_? My eyes were almost rolling back in my head, my control just barely keeping me from either holding her head there for a very long time or finding out how those lips would feel elsewhere…but that was a thought that I couldn't allow myself to have, as even the _thought_ was enough to send an electric jolt through my veins. I sighed, brought her up for another kiss before I spoke, still close enough that my lips moved against hers. "I am absolutely sure of it. Don't worry about that."

I could feel her smile, her arms sliding around neck. "If you say so."

"I do." I pulled her fully into my lap, let her rest back against my chest as our breathing slowed. She felt so _warm_. I rested my chin on her shoulder, nuzzling against her. "So. What were you reading before I so rudely interrupted you?"

"Believe me, the interruption was wanted."

We laughed softly together, and I reached around her to pull the book into my hand. "All the same." I flipped it over on her lap, reading the cover. "Jane Eyre. That's a good one."

"I think so."

"Would you like to read a little more?"

"Only if _you_ read." She shifted to make herself more comfortable, tugged the blankets up around her and slid down to lay her head better against my shoulder. "Chapter 22."

"Alright, love." I flipped the book open and read until she fell asleep, two pages into chapter 24. I moved carefully then, setting it on the nightstand and turning down the gas light without disturbing her, though I did shift our positions so that she lay down fully, still safe against me. She closed any small distance immediately, even in her sleep unwilling to allow it. "Ah, Esme…" At the sound of her name she almost seemed to wake, but her even breathing didn't change and the flicker of awareness I had thought I had seen on her face vanished. I kissed her temple lightly, took a moment to inhale her scent. Entrancing. "Sleep well, my love."

And she seemed to, her every expression one of happiness as I began to watch her dream.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

It was seven when she started to stir. It was different, for her, and my attention increased instantly about a hundred fold. We always stayed up late, and as a result she always slept in. There was nowhere she needed to be, and Charles had never become suspicious. I had never seen her wake before 9, unless she was interrupted. She came fully awake suddenly, then, drawing in a sharp breath. "Esme?"

Her eyes shut as quickly as they had opened. "Wait." She pulled away from me and stood up, losing her balance for a second before bolting out of the room and to the bathroom across the hall. As if I wasn't anxious enough already, the sound of her throwing up…

The nerves were too much to bear. To hell with it, I could be fast. No one would see me. I darted across the hall, shut the door behind me.

She was leaning weakly against the toilet, her arms thrown across it to steady herself. "That was stupid." Her voice was far too weak to be sufficiently scolding.

"No one saw me. How are you feeling? And I mean tell me everything." I knelt down beside her on the floor, torn between simply comforting her and examining her. I pressed my palm to her forehead, merging both desires. No fever.

"I'm fine, Carlisle, it's nothing. Just a little nauseous, happened yesterday too, after you left."

My fingers were wrapped around her wrist, checking her pulse, but the count in my head froze at her words. I should have been able to do 10 things at once, but one thought was very suddenly all I could think, and I could feel my veins run cold with it. I wasn't sure what look crossed my face, but I heard her gasp, felt her body tighten. I was counting back in my head then, focused. Just three days short of two months.

"Carlisle-"

"Wait. Be still. And quiet." I closed my eyes, focused all my effort on my sense of hearing. Her heartbeat was the warmest, strongest sound in all the world, and even now it took a moment to draw my focus away from it. I listened deeper, casting my thoughts around for the sound I knew I would never have noticed, would have written off as the heartbeat of a mouse or a rabbit or-

I hissed involuntarily, more shocked than angry. It was a there, a tiny heartbeat, miniscule but strong.

"Carlisle?" Her voice wavered and I was sorry I was frozen, sorry I wasn't better comfort. "Am…Am I…"

I took a deep breath, still unable to open my eyes. "Yes."

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This one's a little shorter, but ah…yeah I just had to end it there. And I know you're going to beat me with all kinds of strange objects. lol

To make up for it, I promise a longer chapter next time. : ) If you don't kill me that is. heh


	13. Ready

I can't believe I forgot to say this the first time I posted this... OVER 100 REVIEWS! You guys are amazing, I love you so much.

I promise, things will get better eventually…they just have to have lots of hard times first.

My e-mail is, once again, screwed up. So if I don't answer something, I'm really really not ignoring you. stupid piece of crap...

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**Carlisle**

Her breath caught sharply, and I could feel her body freeze up, just as mine had. I fought to speak, to move, to do something, _anything_ but I was failing, until I felt her start to tremble. That effectively snapped my out of my shock. I pulled her into my arms and against my chest, sinking back against the door. She didn't speak, only buried herself closer, her whole body still shaking violently. It was dark in the room, and no one would suspect that anyone was in here, no pressure to move any time soon.

My internal clock pushed at my distracted mind about 10 minutes before I was supposed to meet Edward, and I stirred slightly, as if coming out of a coma. I wondered, idly, if we would have sat there all day if I hadn't have needed to move. "Esme, love…" It sounded so loud in the stillness, loud even to human ears. Or perhaps not, but she heard it well enough to tense, cling tighter to me. "I have to go."

She nodded, her face still pressed into me. She didn't want to move, I could feel it. Well, that certainly made two of us. But I had to go. I had to. I gently pried her fingers away from my shirt, frightened at how cold her hands felt under mine, not as fire warm as usual. When I had finished, she sat back, wrapped her arms around herself. She looked pitifully lost, and I ached to pull her to me again. "Carlisle…you'll come back?"

"Always." She should never doubt it, not ever. No matter what. I leaned over her, kissed her forehead gently. "Get some more rest, please." I brushed her hair back, let my hand linger on her cheek. "Should I carry you?"

She shook her head, hard. "No. I want to stay here for a minute."

I hated leaving her here, on the cold floor, but she clearly didn't want to move an inch. I nodded hesitantly, couldn't resist stroking her cheek again. "Alright. Tonight, then." I slid out the door quickly, before I became too weak to leave.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''

My mind was blank was I came in, and I wasn't surprised to see Edward smiling. Of course, to him nothing had happened.

"Good morning. You're just on time."

"I can't…" I shook my head, sank into my desk chair. "Edward, I can't do this today. I don't think…" No, I wasn't ready to face people, conversation. I let it rise in my thoughts again, let the whole morning replay. I knew the moment he understood, heard him swear under his breath and push away from the table he leaned against.

"She…Carlisle…"

"Yes."

"You're cer-"

"Yes." And truly, I felt sick thinking about it again. It would nice of him to let up, a little.

"Sorry." I felt his hesitation, then the disturbance in the air as he rushed to my side, his hand falling to my shoulder. "I'll put a note on the door. Say you can't see anyone today."

I sighed, shook my head. That wasn't really fair to my patients. I had a job to do, regardless of whatever mess was going on in my personal life. "No. I should…" But I couldn't, and I knew it. I wouldn't be a good doctor today, and that wouldn't help anyone. "You could do it, it's all very minor."

"You need me."

I couldn't argue with that, and I stopped trying, let him walk away. Yes, I needed him. I needed his presence, his companionship, even if it didn't change anything. And so much had changed, in one realization. So very much. I had not, could not have been prepared for my response. I told myself that it should have been better. Calmer. Of all the things that happened until now to make me learn the feel of jealousy intimately, I had never felt it more acutely than I did now. I would have never dreamed it could be this sharp, this malevolent. I could feel it eating at my insides, leaving a path of destruction.

She was pregnant. She would have his child. _His_ child. I wanted to snarl in rage but I didn't even have the energy, couldn't even muster a growl. No, my anger attacked only me, destroying everything it touched. She was mine, and she would have his child. I could hardly bear the thought. It would not have, perhaps, been quite as bad if I hadn't wanted it so desperately. Edward was my son in every sense, of course, but I loved being his father, loved everything thing about the thought. To have a child with her, to give her _my_ child… The very thought was both gloriously beautiful and heart wrenching, the worst kind of agony. It was everything I could have wanted, made even worse by the fact that even if we were truly together, it could never be. This…this _monster _could give her something I could not. Something I so desperately wished I was able to give. To hear our child's heartbeat, to care for them both, to see our baby born, healthy and well…it was the most tempting fantasy I had ever imagined, and equally the most searingly painful.

I crushed the heels of my hands into my eyes, tried desperately to clear my mind. It hurt too much to imagine, I didn't want to see it anymore. I didn't want to think, not about anything, I wanted to be blank, numb. But _God_ the jealousy…it was far too powerful for me, almost a living force. I was almost sickened with how much I would have been willing to give at that moment, just to be him.

I barely felt Edward crouch down beside the arm of the chair, his head coming to rest against my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Carlisle." The pain was so deeply seated in his words that for a moment I regretted that he had no choice but to share my thoughts, to share in the agony of them. And besides that, I would not want him to think for a moment that I thought him any less my son, cared any less for him- "No, of course, I know." He sighed, heavy. "I know. But I understand, also, how much you want this. I know that nothing I can say could ease this pain, and I'm sorry for that. I would do whatever I could for you, if there was anything that could be done."

"I know." I could hear the sorrow in my voice, so deeply rooted. I would have to pull myself together before I saw her again. I could not allow her to see me like this.

"You should talk to her. Tell her how you feel."

I shook my head slightly, my hands still covering my eyes. "No. It doesn't matter now. It never would have, anyway. It's not as if…" I shook my head again, stronger. "It's not as if it were possible." But oh, how I wished it was.

He leaned back, shifted to the side to slide all the way to the floor and lean back against the desk. "You never thought you were missing anything after all this time, not really." It wasn't a question. He had read as much in my mind.

"No." I had adjusted so fully to this life, I never missed being human, never _really_ wanted it back. Not until now.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

His sharp intake of breath told me something, someone was coming, and I raised my head quickly, finally moving.

"She's coming."

But his words were unnecessary, really, because I could smell her now. I swallowed hard, struggled to pull at least my expression under control. "Can you-"

"I'll let her in. Look at me." I did, and his head tilted, taking it in. "Very convincing. Good." He opened the door as she reached it, stepping aside to let her in. "Esme." His voice put a thousand meanings into her name, and she paused to hug him before she came any closer.

"Edward. Thank you."

I couldn't help but wonder what she was thanking him for, but I assumed, that it was, of course, his discretion with her thoughts. He was always so very good about that. "Was it safe for you to come here?" My voice sounded only a little dead, but I knew she would still hear it. I would have to do better than that.

She looked down, nodded. "Yes. He's out." She stood still several feet away, and the distance was driving me crazy. I wanted her closer. I _needed _her closer. "Carlisle, I…"

"Come here. Please." Even if it shouldn't her hesitation worried me. She never willing stopped that far away from me. It meant nothing, I was sure, but even so I relaxed when she came forward, let me pull her into my lap. I shuddered, nuzzled into her shoulder. Better. So much better. "Alright, forgive me. I'm listening." She seemed nervous, so very frightened, and I was glad that I had had the hours in between to calm a little bit. I kissed her cheek, squeezed her gently. "Esme, everything's going to be alright. I promise." I didn't know how, but it would be. I would take care of her.

She nodded, eyes still downcast. Whatever she wanted to say, it seemed almost impossible to get out. She took a deep breath, let it all come out in a mumbled rush she knew I would catch. "Carlisle, I want to leave. I'm ready to leave."

To say I was shocked would have been putting it mildly, but I recovered well, quick enough that she would have never noticed. This was good news, of course it was. So why did I feel so wounded? "Of course. As soon as Edward and I can everything in order…two days at the most, wouldn't you say?" I looked at him over her shoulder, saw his tight nod. "Yes. Just two days." I smiled for her, pushed her bangs back to kiss her forehead. "I'm so glad you changed your mind."

She smiled weakly, brushed a hand against my cheek. "I was afraid you might be angry at me."

"At you? Never." Hurt, yes, but I couldn't quite place why, not while I was focusing everything on her, on our conversation. I tangled my fingers with hers, pulled her hand up to kiss her knuckles. "Are you alright?"

"Better, now that I've had some time to think." Her hand fell to her stomach, her thumb rubbing against the fabric of her dress. "I never realized until now that I…" She looked at me with almost worried eyes, as if she were wondering how much she should say. She seemed to find everything she needed in my eyes, and her smile widened a little. "I never realized I wanted this until now. I had thought, someday but…" She shook her head, a look of awe on her features. "I never knew how much."

Yes, I knew exactly what she meant. All the more reason she could never know what I longed for, what I so desperately wanted. I would not lessen her happiness in this, not for all the world. I kissed her hand against, nuzzled against her skin, breathing her in. "You will a wonderful mother, Esme. I know it."

She pulled her hand away from mine, took my face in her hands. "I would like to think so. But you will be an even better father." She faltered for a moment, worry flashing in her eyes. "If…if you wish…If you could ever think of them as your own…You are the only father I would ever tell this child they had. The only one they need."

I closed my eyes, let her words wash over me. No, it wasn't quite the same. But it was close, and it was wonderful. Any anger I had had melted away, and I pulled her closer, let my hand come to rest over her womb. Her child…and mine, for we would raise them together. "Yes. Of course, yes, Esme…yes." She hugged me fiercely, and I could feel her tears against my neck. My arms came up to wrap around her, rubbing her back comfortingly. "Shh, love. Everything's going to be alright now."

She sniffed, laughed softly after a few uneven breaths. "Yes. I think you're right."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Have you figured it out yet?"

I looked up from the box I was packing, giving Edward my most confused glance. "Figured what out?"

"Why it bothered you, that she wanted to leave now."

Yes. That. I had, actually, tried not to think of it. It was stupid, it was selfish it was-

"You're wrong, you know. That's why I brought it up." He pulled up a box I had already finished, sat down on it next to me. "It isn't that the baby is more important than you. That's not at all how she sees it. It's just that she would feel guilty, if the child got hurt because of her. She doesn't want that to happen, that's all. Nothing rivals her love for you, Carlisle. Not even the love she has now for her little one. It's just protection, that's all."

I shouldn't have been so relieved to hear it, but I could feel an almost invisible tension in my shoulders ease. Of course, I should have realized that on my own. If he would hurt her, he would not hesitate to strike his child. My hands clenched, a growl rising. No, that could not be allowed. She was right. Of course this should be the deciding factor, more important than any other.

Edward smiled, gentle. "Yes. Normally I wouldn't tell you, but I couldn't stand to have you hurting over something that wasn't true. Even if you kept trying to ignore it." He stood, bounded back over to book shelves to finish his work there. "I'll go get the papers ordered tomorrow?"

Yes, we would need those. She needed a birth certificate, at least. The rest we could figure out later. Along with other details, such as where exactly were going, something I hadn't even thought of until this moment.

I grinned suddenly, the reality of it catching up with me. We were leaving, finally. In two more days, she would never have to deal with that bastard again. She would be mine, wholly. Only two more days.

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But this isn't over yet…so I wouldn't get too comfortable with any sort of warm fuzzy feeling. Heh


	14. One Step Too Far

I wrote this while avoiding studying for a test…ah, procrastination.

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**Esme**

For the first time in such a very long time, I had true hope. Having Carlisle in my life had been a gift I never thought I would receive, and it had been more than enough. The thought of being _only_ with him, the thought of raising a child together, it was all so overwhelming in the most wonderful way. He did not know, could not have known how my resolve was wearing down, how each time he asked me to leave with him I had come ever closer to a yes. I could take whatever Charles gave me, for my families sake, but I could never ask that of child. It wasn't right, and I would not let my baby be harmed by him. The thought of him molding them into a tool for his own social gain was equally disgusting, and all in all, there was no way I could stay, not now.

I was grateful that they understood, that they were ready. For my part, I had never been so nervous or so excited. I had gone home quickly and spent the afternoon sewing, all but singing in my happiness. Betty had eyed me curiously but said nothing, chose instead to smile softly and sit down with me, mending the curtains. I wished, for a moment, that I could tell her everything, bring her with me. I doubted very much that he would take his anger out on her, but I had grown attached to her, and it would have been so very nice to have involved in my child's life. Still, it was a small price to pay, her loss. I hoped that she would leave Charles, someday. Be happy.

Supper was served at 6, and Charles had been very quiet, his eyes dark. Normally, it would have worried me but nothing could dampen my happiness tonight. Nothing. I was sitting in front of the fire when he came in, startling me. He almost never sat down here, choosing instead his study and his alcohol. He had been up there, in fact, for the last two hours, and I could smell the alcohol on him even across the distance. The fear crept in a little then, my arm curling automatically over my stomach. It was amazing, really, how fast instincts like that kicked in.

He paced, poked the fire violently, sparks flying. I could see it better now, the dangerous gleam to his eyes and my mouth went dry, heart racing. I would have to watch carefully for just the right moment to steal upstairs, I would have to be careful.

"What have you got?"

I jumped, looked down to the fabric in my hands. It was a new quilt I had been making for some time now, the same one I had been working on all afternoon. "A new quilt, the old one's getting-"

"I don't want to see you buying any more unnecessary things like that, do you understand? Keep to the damn groceries."

I swallowed hard, let the blanket slide from my hands. "Yes, Charles."

"You cost me too much money on your damn hobbies." His voice was a growl, low and dangerous. "Fabric and books…as if a woman needs to do anything but what her husband tells her."

"Yes, Charles. I'm sorry." I was desperate to placate him, to calm him before this turned into something truly dangerous.

He laughed, humorless. "And what's made you so accommodating?" He was pacing again, not really looking for an answer. "There was an accident at the factory today, it's going to set us behind. Money'll be tight next month, considering…" He waved at the house vaguely, shaking his head. "So don't go spending what you haven't earned."

I nodded mutely, head down. Maybe if I said nothing, his attention would wander and I could slip upstairs. Betty had already retired to her room, and Carlisle likely wouldn't be here for another hour at least. If something happened, and Edward didn't hear…

His hand came to jerk my chin up, and my heart plummeted. _No, no, please, no…_ " Do you hear me?"

"Yes." _Please, please, God, let him go, let him just leave me alone._

He yanked me forward, pulling me to my feet. "You're never been anything but worthless to me." I knew that, of course. He had made it more than clear many times. I was always strong, for this, always, but my fear was no longer for myself. I had to get away. He slapped me hard but I didn't flinch. At least that was bearable. "Terrible excuse for a wife. What do you have to say for yourself, huh?" He shook me, shoved me backwards until I tripped on the brick before the fireplace and fell back into the wall, though I was still standing.

"Charles, please…" I had never begged him, and his eyes widened a little. It was alright, I could lose my pride. There were more important things.

"Please? You're pathetic." He looked far too dangerous, too angry and drunk as he started toward me and I grasped frantically at the air beside me, gripping the metal poker in my desperation. The end was red hot, and I slashed forward, eager to burn him with it. My fear made my grip shaky, however, and he jerked it from my hand, flinging it across the room. His voice deteriorated into a cheap imitation of a growl, his eyes never turning from me. "You shouldn't have done that, Esme."

Taking what appeared to be my only chance I lunged into a run, hoping I could make it past him before-

But no, I couldn't. He pulled the chair up from behind in a swing far more coordinated than I would have hoped he would be, hitting me across my body and dropping me to the floor, my arms curled around my torso. _No, no, no, my baby, please, don't…_

My head had hit the brick when I fell, and I could feel something warm behind me, seeping down the back of my neck. It didn't matter, not when compared with the pain in my stomach, the only one I could focus on. _No, not my baby, please…_

The last thing I registered before I blacked out was the smell of smoke, a strange rushing sound. Then, I could feel nothing.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''

I woke up knowing that I should have been in pain, knowing that something was very wrong. Only I wasn't in pain. My body felt heavy, too warm and I was in an unfamiliar bed, blankets tucked in tight around me. I was drowsy, still, though I had no idea how long I had slept. The events before I had blacked out came back to me in a rush, and I tried to sit up quickly. Not the best idea I had had. The world spun sickeningly, and I wavered, almost falling backwards.

Two cool hands caught me, eased me back down onto the bed. "No, don't move. Don't even try."

"Edward?"

"Yes, I'm here." His voice was soft but…dangerous. "Charles is here. Carlisle's speaking to him now."

My head was still spinning, but there were questions I had to ask, one more important than the others. "Edward-"

"Carlisle's given you plenty of morphine, you shouldn't be in any pain." His voice was rigid, almost cold. "When he comes back, I'll see what he can do about the dizziness. I think it would be best if you slept a little longer."

"Edward, please…" I could hear the tears before I could feel them, my body already responding to an answer I didn't even have.

His hand left my shoulder, and I heard a soft sound, almost as if he were struggling with his own tears. "Esme, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. There was nothing that…it was far too early for anything to be done."

My mind shut down, shutting the information out. _No. No, my baby, my baby…._ "But…but Carlisle…"

I heard the broken sob from him more clearly then, his head resting on the edge of my bed. "If there was anything, he would have done it. He couldn't. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

I shuddered away from his words, curled up tightly. No, it couldn't be. It couldn't. Not when I had just found out, not when everything was falling into place. No, no, no. My head was still spinning horribly, made even worse by the tremors that now shook my whole body uncontrollably. I felt the bed shift with his weight, felt his strong, cool arms around me as he pulled me up to rest against him, tuck my head under his chin.

His presence was the only stabilizing force, and I focused on his uneven breaths until unconsciousness too me once again.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

When I woke again, a measure of the heaviness had worn off. I noticed, first, that I was warmer than I had been falling asleep, and I sat up with a start when I realized Edward was gone. This time, the motion didn't completely destroy gravity. I was able to focus, to lean back against the wall and blink fuzzily into the darkness. I was in the room downstairs reserved for very ill patients, just off from the exam rooms. And now that I was awake enough to listen, I could hear Edward and Carlisle's voices coming from the main room, loud enough to hear likely because they thought I was still sleeping.

"You're really going to do this." Edward sounded somewhere between awed acceptance and grim anticipation.

"Yes. This is too far, too much." Carlisle? My Carlisle? It had to be, but his _voice_…it was colder than I would have ever imagined, colder than I would have dreamed my angel capable of. "A life for a life is only fair."

"I couldn't agree more, but I doubted you would."

"Do you think I could let him live, now? After this? What he did to her!" His voice was choked, and he trailed off for a moment, furious. "No. No he has stepped too far. He is only lucky that she lived."

Edward sighed heavily, and I could almost see him shaking his head. "No, I don't think you could have. You don't have torture in you."

"Wouldn't I, for that?"

"No, not even for that. Though I'm sure I could manage."

"No need."

"But I am coming with you."

"This was-"

"Your child. And my brother or sister. Do you think I have any less claim? Besides, you need me to have your back. Just in case."

"I won't leave her here alone."

"She's-" I tried, desperately, to make my mind blank in time. Blank enough, at least, that he would let it go. It wasn't hard, as the world was still hazy. "She's resting. We'll be nearby, I can keep tabs on her. Closely."

A long moment passed before he must have nodded. I didn't hear their footsteps on the way to the door, heard only the sound it made shutting behind them.

I waited until they were gone to let the weight of the conversation hit me, settle into my soul. He was going to kill him, he was really going to kill him. My angel, my Carlisle…

It was wrong, wrong in every way, on every level but I could not bring myself to argue, to beg Edward to stop him. I didn't want this, but the emotion wasn't strong enough to stand against it. Everything hurt in ways the morphine couldn't fix, and I curled up in the center of the bed once more, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping to erase the knowledge I had.

I could still hear his voice, haunted, cold. I knew it would plague me even in my sleep.

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Honestly, this is almost the last utterly depressing chapter. Almost. The next chapter is going to be slightly different, in that it will overlap this one some, from Carlisle's perspective. But after that, then the worst is over…


	15. An Eye For An Eye

Carlisle's perspective….everyone ready? ; )

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**Carlisle**

It was amazing, how much easier the waiting was now. Before, every moment away from her had been a nearly unbearable eternity. Now…well, the pain hadn't lessened, but the _hope_, the knowledge I had of our immediate future, that made all the difference. Soon, there would be nothing to keep her from me, no reason I could not be with her every moment I wasn't working. The thought was wonderful, almost intoxicating.

Everything was packed, and I would make the calls I needed to a nearby doctor tomorrow. It was good that I was still new, really. Not many patients to transfer. I sat at my desk, trying to focus on the book open before me. It was a book that had been written several years before, 1903. White Fang. I tried to keep up with the literature, but sometimes I fell behind, missed a few spots. This one was very interesting, really, but despite how much easier the waiting was, I was still almost as impatient as ever. It would have been easier if I had Edward here to talk to, conversation took less patience. I couldn't complain, though. He was out seeing someone about forging documents for her, and he should be back soon enough. Until then, I could wait. Keep trying to read.

I caught his scent at the same moment I caught the scent of smoke, but I thought nothing of it. It wasn't _our_ smoke, it smelled only of fire, and I assumed one of our neighbors was cold. As such, I was not prepared in the slightest for the way he burst in the door, his eyes wide and panicked. I was on my feet in an instant, almost at his side before he could speak.

"Carlisle." He didn't need to say anything else, I already understood more than I wanted to. I beat him out onto the sidewalk, sprinted far too quickly the short distance to their door. There were no outward signs of flames, nothing to alert anyone on the street with human senses. All the same, it was there, and I knew from his reaction this was no normal fire. "It's more than that, Carlisle, but I don't know, I don't know how much, I don't know where the fire is, I don't- Carlisle!"

I had been half listening, and he lunged forward to latch onto my arms when I had moved to jump up the stairs. I growled, twisted in an effort to break his grip. There was no way that I could, but this was different from the last time I had come close to fighting him. This wasn't a question of me enduring misery, this was a question of life and death for her, for both of us, and I would fight him if he didn't let me go.

He groaned, and I knew he was torn, agonized at the thought of letting me go into a burning building. "Carlisle, please, think-"

"NO! She's mine." It was all I could say, and all I needed to say. His second groan was quieter, more subdued and though he didn't let go his grasp weakened and I pulled quickly away from him, darting into the entrance hall. I could hear the crackle better here, a sound that by our deepest instincts should have had me running in the other direction. I ran towards it, emerging into the sitting room. With my vision I could see through the smoke starting to rise, could see the poker where it lay next to the fringe on the carpet that it had set fire to, could see the licking flames that had spread from the carpet to the sofa and were now steadily consuming it. My eyes swept the room, scanning. I saw her body on the floor, sprawled out, blood spreading out onto the hardwood behind her from a head wound. For a moment, everything stopped. The fear that I was too late bolted my feet to the floor for a handful of priceless seconds before I broke free, darting forward to pull her up into my arms. Her heartbeat was weak, but steady. My hand cupped her cheek, felt her equally weak breath. "Esme…Esme, please…" She was out completely. The irrational side of me bordered on panic, struggling with the urge to try harder to wake her. Luckily, I had enough presence of mind to realize that would help nothing. I had to get her out of there.

Charles was nowhere to be seen, though I could hear the sound of staggering on wood in the background. It didn't matter, he could burn alive for all I cared. If anyone deserved it, he did. But there was the housekeeper, and might still be in the house. I could not leave her. The flames had spread to the drapes, now, and I darted back to the hall and out the door. The look on Edward's face was somewhere between horror and breathless relief, and I handed Esme off to him as gently as I could. "Get her to the clinic. I'll be right there."

He didn't argue, and for that I was glad. I had time, with my speed, to get in and out before the fire became a real problem, but I needed above all else to get back to Esme. Now. The smoke had not yet grown bad enough to wake Betty and she slept still, curled on her side under far too thin of a blanket. I wrapped her up quickly and lifted her, one hand covering her eyes. She yelped quietly as she startled awake, though she didn't try to get away. "There's a fire. Keep your eyes shut." I could feel her nod, and I shifted my hand to grip her better, running toward the door. Believing my warning, she didn't open her eyes, barely breathed until I sat her down on the sidewalk, facing away from me. "Go. And get the fire department." I didn't know if Charles had made it out, but I really, sincerely hoped in a very twisted way that he would be trapped inside.

"Sir, wait, the Mrs.-"

I stepped into the shadows as she tried to turn, slinking easily backwards. "Is at the doctor's, just down from here. Go." I ran before she could ask me anything else, hugging close to the buildings. We were lucky the streets were almost deserted tonight. I think I almost took the door off its hinges coming in, but I slammed it with equal force, throwing the lock into place immediately. "Edward?"

"Stable." His voice was distant, and I was puzzled until the memory of her blood came back in a rush. I chilled, realizing how foolish I had been. Simply by accident he could have- "Yes, and it was a close thing. But I am rather stronger than I expected, though I couldn't stay down there with her, I'm sorry. But I've been listening." His voice was tight, impossibly strained.

I would have to apologize, later, for putting him through this. First, her head wound needed my attention. It took me seconds to gather the supplies, to gently clean the blood from the back of her scalp. The cut was jagged, almost like-

"The corner of a brick."

I could feel my chest rumbling with growl as I stitched her up, but the sound seemed to come from a long ways away, and the tremble did not reach my hands. They remained steady as I stitched her up, wiping a clean, damp cloth over them when I was finished. Much, much better.

It was then that I could see the tremble reach my hands, then that my subconscious nagged me with the part I hadn't wanted to think about, had not even let cross my mind from the moment I had found her. If God had any mercy left for her…

But no, that couldn't be. Because He was a God of mercy, and I already knew what I would find. Or, rather, what I wouldn't. No matter how hard I strained my ears, there was only one heartbeat. Nothing else. I jerked when I felt Edward's hand between my shoulders, having been completely oblivious to his approach.

"Carlisle, I'm sorry." His own voice was choked, and I could feel it in the way his fingers tensed, everything about the way he felt. He was suffering, yes. Certainly. But…

"Leave me, Edward. I have to…" To do something I would never speak of, because if there was a complication, if her body didn't handle this as it should, there were a million things that could go wrong. And as the outcome was already known, I had to…handle it. Yes, he was suffering. But it was nothing compared to what I would suffer, what I was already suffering. There was no arrogance, no malice in that realization. It simply was. "Go."

"You shouldn't be alone, you shouldn't-"

"You can't handle this." I sighed, regretting my bluntness when I felt him wince. He had to understand, it wasn't exactly that I didn't want his presence, though I wasn't really sure about that either. I was almost certain I wanted to be alone, but I wasn't really certain of anything. But that wasn't really the issue, here. The issue was large amounts of blood, and the fact that I knew he couldn't take it.

Slowly, reluctantly, I felt his hand slide from my back. He said nothing, and the next sound I heard was the sound of a window opening. I was alone.

I wanted, more than anything to pick her up again, to hold her and comfort her, to speak softly to her until she woke, to encourage her. I took a deep breath, steadying myself, caging that desire and a million others. Among them, the desire to curl up next to her and sob until I could feel my ribs crack with the force. I couldn't feel, couldn't have that luxury right now. Slowly, my every movement measured, I gathered everything I would need.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

She slept peacefully, after the morphine. I watched her, unblinking, counting every breath she took. They were even, perfect. My gaze shifted to my own hands, clasped in front of me. And shifted again, as I realized my mind still saw her blood on them, even if it wasn't there.

Of all the things that had happened in the course of my very long life, there had never been anything like this, and I realized with the odd curiosity that I always had for new things that I was learning something new about pain. There was a point when even pain could not hurt you. A point past agony, almost past numbness. Past all understanding. It was too much emotion, an overload that instead of a jumble produced a blank slate, though a heavy one.

I was still trying very hard not to think. Only to count.

She was only on breath 152 when he came back, and I knew he couldn't have gone far. I felt his presence at the door, though I did not turn to face him, did not even greet him with my mind.

"Carlisle, you shouldn't be here when she wakes up." That, of all things he could have said, was exactly what he shouldn't have. I bristled, almost launched out of my chair to turn toward him. I was ready to yell but he held one hand up, pacifying, and my head cleared enough to realize I shouldn't scream in front of her. "No, she needs her rest. But you shouldn't scream anyway, because I'm right."

I glared, waited. _What, Edward? Go on. I'll hear you out._ And then tell him he was wrong.

"I know you can't see yourself but you look damn awful. You're a wreck, and you're holding all of this in, and you're going to crash. And she doesn't need to see that, because she's going to need someone to be stronger than she is, someone who'll let her break down without doing it themselves. And right now, Carlisle, you can't do that." His eyes were soft, understanding. I could see the pain there as well, sharp and still strong.

I couldn't be angry, I couldn't. Not when I knew he was right. Still…. "I need to stay with her, Edward. I need…" But I realized I was talking only about myself now, not about what was best for her. I felt my hands tremble, and I raked one back through my hair, trying my best to grasp a little more composure.

"No, that's just it. You have far too much composure, but it's all very hastily thrown together, and it's not going to last." His voice softened further as he stepped toward me. "And how could it, with what…"

We both knew what he was going to say and I let out a shuddering breath, shaking my head. No, he was right. I couldn't hold it together for her, not now. I could only hope that he could.

"No promises, but I'll do my best."

Which was, certainly, better than I could offer her right now. I crossed back to her still form on the bed, brushed her hair back to kiss her forehead. There was something calming in it, in the familiar feel of her warm skin under my lips. She was going to be alright, and that was the consolation, the bright spot in this, if anything was. She was going to be alright.

And I was going to go somewhere and fall apart. A look I recognized flashed in Edward's eyes when I had the thought but I held my hand up to head off his question. I knew him well enough to know he would offer to be there for me, but I wasn't the one that needed him the most. And besides, this…mourning was probably something I should do alone. The anger, I knew, would be coming close behind it, all my emotions coming out in a rush as soon as one of them broke free.

Just then, Edward stiffened. And immediately following, there was a knock on the door.

Well, I had been wrong. Apparently rage was going come before sorrow. "It isn't."

He took a deep breath, and I could see the flames dancing in his eyes. "It is."

She stirred slightly on the bed, whimpering in her sleep and I resisted the urge to run to her. "Stay with her. I'll deal with him." I pushed past him in the doorway to go out and answer for Charles, completely uncertain as to what was going to happen after I did.

I waited until Edward closed the door to her room before I wrenched the door open. He had been drunk, that much was clear, but he seemed largely sobered up now. There wasn't a mark on him.

"Carlisle! There was a fire, my housekeeper said-"

"Yes, she's here. Come in." I wasn't sure how much civility there was in my tone, but I honestly didn't care. I was past caring. I turned to lead him into the room. I didn't even attempt to sit down or motion for him to, I knew that I could not and I didn't care what he did.

"How is she?"

The false concern infuriated me more than if he hadn't asked, and my hands clenched angrily, nails digging into my palms. I didn't face him, faced the empty bookshelves along the wall instead. "Did you know your wife was pregnant?" And I knew he hadn't, knew there was no way he could have guessed. Just as I knew that it would never have mattered if he had.

"Pregnant? I…no, no we didn't know."

We. Right. "She was." My voice was low, dangerous, and I wondered if he could hear the warning, if I was finally going to appear dangerous enough to tip off his human survival instincts.

I heard the scratch of his boots on the floor as he moved. "Was?"

"Yes. Was."

I heard him sigh, heard him move again. "She fell, when the fire started, she was trying to run-"

"No." I hadn't intended to confront him now, really, but I couldn't stand to hear it, to listen to his lies. "No, she didn't."

He paused, likely confused. He wouldn't understand my denial. After all, how could I know anything? "Yes, I saw her she-"

I wheeled to face him, and I could see that he finally grasped some measure of the danger as he stepped back. "Liar." It came out as a hiss, my shoulders tensing as I edged toward him. "I know what happened. I know you did this, and I know it isn't the first time."

His eyes widened, and I could tell that it never crossed his mind to argue. Not now. "I…I…"

My eyes narrowing, I took another step toward him, words organizing in my head. I would tell him everything I knew, before he died. He should know, beforehand, that she had been mine all her life.

And I would have almost done it then, but I could hear Edward's voice, and hers, and I knew that now wasn't the time. Not when she might hear. "Get out."

"I-" He was backing up, but not quickly enough, and it annoyed me that he tried to argue.

"Get. Out." That time, he didn't wait.

I gave him two minutes head start before I followed.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"How is she, Edward?" I sat down slowly, leaning back against the front door. He didn't answer immediately, and I heard the mattress creak softly, the door open and close.

"Sleeping, now. She hasn't really woken up, since earlier when you left. She came close, once."

"She's not in pain?" I would not have her in pain, not for a moment.

"No. Very dizzy, though I'm not sure if that's the drugs or the head wound."

"A combination. I'll ease up on the morphine when she's ready to eat something." I took a deep breath, listened to the ticking of the clock and his footsteps across the floor, waited until he sat down beside me. "He's in a hotel room, not far from here."

I had, in fact, spent the past hour staring at his window, thinking. I had run through everything, turned it all over a thousand times. I had sworn from the moment I was changed that I would never take a life, no matter the reason. Sworn it, to myself and to God, as surely as I had kept the Commandments as a man. There had never been a reason good enough to even be truly tempted, much less to face a decision of this magnitude. But where she was concerned, nothing else could compare. Not even God. It was wrong, and I knew it, but I couldn't help it. She was everything, and the raw instinct to protect her had risen to an undeniable point. I would use that instinct, run only on it and block out any sort of rational thought I tried to have. I would let it take over, be a monster. I would kill him, and I would ask for forgiveness, hers and Gods. Whether I received it would remain to be seen, but I could not bear his existence any longer.

"You're sure, Carlisle?" His voice was a low, shocked murmur. No matter what he had watched in my thoughts over the past months, he had not expected this.

"An eye for an eye, Edward."

"Yes, but I believe they rethought that one later on."

"That doesn't mean it can't apply."

"You're really going to do this." I could hear the awe, the approval even in his words. He was shocked, but not horrified. This is what he would have done from the beginning. What I should have done. I had thought I was as angry as I could get, before. That I could bear it. I had been wrong. I had not been angry enough, had not been strong enough until now.

"Yes. This is too far, too much." The things he had done to her before, every unspeakable thing I had seen I had endured. This went beyond. It didn't matter that he hadn't known, his guilt was still the same. The child had been mine far more than it could have ever been his, mine to protect. I had failed them, as I always failed her, but I would not fail now. I would not let a murderer get away. "A life for a life is only fair."

"I couldn't agree more, but I doubted you would."

I was still running almost wholly on instinct and I almost growled at the shock in his words, my protective anger tipped off. Did he think me entirely incapable of protecting my mate? "Do you think I could let him live, now? After this? What he did to her!" The memories rose in my mind and I let them, let him see the marks on her body, the blood on my hands, the way she had whimpered in pain when she woke up, just before I could get the morphine in her veins. I felt him shudder next to me, and I knew he had seen enough. I took a deep breath, calming a little bit of the violence. "No. No he has stepped too far. He is only lucky that she lived." I would not, could not imagine how it would feel to lose her. I knew only that if I had, I would have made him beg for death.

I could feel him move beside me, shaking his head. "No, I don't think you could have. You don't have torture in you."

No, I didn't. He was right about that, certainly. Under normal circumstances. But losing her? Knowing how I felt at the moment, I was fairly sure I could have done whatever I had to to make him suffer. "Wouldn't I, for that?"

"No, not even for that. Though I'm sure I could manage." And he could now, I knew. I could hear the offer in his voice. He would do it now, if I wanted.

"No need." I could do this, and I would. Alone.

"But I am coming with you."

No need. "This was-"

"Your child. And my brother or sister. Do you think I have any less claim?"

His words were angry enough, pained enough to make me pause long enough to see that he was right. Of course, of course this was his fight as well, and it was something I should never have forgotten. He loved her like a mother already, and I had been too lost in my own feelings to fully appreciate that. I opened my eyes and turned to look at him, apologizing.

He nodded, accepting it. "Besides, you need me to have your back. Just in case."

Yes, I would need him. We couldn't be disturbed. But that left no one with Esme, and I would not have her waking up to find us gone. "I won't leave her here alone."

"She's…" he paused, and I could tell he was checking her mind. "She's resting. We'll be nearby, I can keep tabs on her. Closely."

I hesitated, uncertain. If he was _sure_ she would be fine…

He nodded, his eyes serious.

Well, alright. I knew him better than to think he would lie to me if she needed one of us here. Alright, we could go together. Be quick, get it done, and get home. He rose quickly, offering a hand to me that I didn't need but took anyway, appreciating the connection. I had the urge to check on her before I left, but I didn't want to wake her and I was ready to be done. Quietly, we slipped out the door.

'''''''''''''''''''''''

I slid in through the window. He was asleep on the bed, facedown. I snarled quietly, crossing the room in darkness. He slept far too peacefully, and the sight only served to infuriate me further. How many times had he come after her? What sort of peace had she ever had with him? He deserved none, deserved nothing at all. "Charles." His eyes snapped open, widening in shock. Before he could even think to scream I cut him off. "Don't scream. You won't have time."

I could see it in his eyes, the fact that he believed it, took it as complete truth. He nodded, all color draining from his face. He was terrified, and I was glad.

"Get up."

He moved shakily, nervously. "How….how did you…What are you?"

I laughed humorlessly, glad he had figured it out so quickly. I was, apparently, truly furious enough to look the part. "Does it matter? I'm going to kill you for what you've done, and that's all you need to know."

He swallowed hard, his knees trembling. He backed up, leaning on the nightstand behind him. "I…no. But I haven't done-"

I snarled, a sound of pure rage and he shrank farther backward, his face somehow turning whiter. For reasons I couldn't completely place, I hated his fear. "Afraid?"

"Y-yes."

"Smart. You should be. How does it feel, to be in her place? Hm?"

"I never meant-"

I growled, lunged forward and caught his shirt in my hands. "You meant everything."

His voice shook horribly, but he still tried. "She's my wife, I-"

"She is not your property!" I was growling now, hands shaking, seeing again in my mind the marks on her skin, the way he had looked towering over her that first night I had come to her rescue. "You beat her worse than you would beat a dog and you say you've done nothing? Do you think I don't know? I told you, I know everything." I laughed darkly, tightened the grip I had on him. "She is not your property, and she was never yours at all. She is mine, has always been mine, and I should have come for you long ago." There was confusion in his eyes then, disbelief. Still, all almost masked by the fear. Disgusted, ready to be done with this I turned, shoved him away from me. "Come on then, Charles. You've had years of experience beating her, but have you ever had a fair fight? Hm? Come on." I could feel myself slip into a crouch, muscles tensing, flowing with strength. It had been over a century since I had fought hand to hand with anyone, much less a human. It would be easy, but still I was ready, waiting. He trembled, backed toward the wall. I snarled again, edged toward him. "Coward."

His eyes flashed, faintly, and he shot forward, threw a punch that I caught easily, hearing once again the way his bones cracked as they met my palm. His eyes widened in shock, gasping as he retreated back against the wall, his hand cradled to his chest.

"Yes. You remember now, don't you?"

He was truly shaking now, pale as a corpse. "Please…I'm sorry…"

"No, you're not. You're afraid, and there's a very big difference between the two." He was pressed fully to the wall now, nowhere left to run. It was almost done. I closed in, took the front of his shirt again in my hand. "You're not sorry, but you should be. I would have let you live, you know. If not for this." I could feel him try to run, to move sideways but it was far too easy to restrict him. "You will never touch her again." But I was talking almost to myself now, he was terrified past listening. I should do it now, and quickly, while I could. While I was strong enough. I could feel my hands starting to shake, and I didn't want him to sense my hesitation. I shifted closer, caught my reflection in his eyes.

If I hadn't known, I wouldn't have recognized myself. My eyes were black, darker than onyx. I could see the cold fury there, the dangerous hatred. The eyes of a monster, the real kind. The kind I, in the beginning, would have rather died than become. My face, my expression was more his than mine. If I did this, I would never be the same. There would be no going back, no forgiveness for this. Certainly not from myself. And though I knew she would, I would never be the same in her eyes. Could I do this, really? To myself? To her?

His hand fell lightly to my shoulder, his touch incredibly gentle. When I turned and caught the look in his eyes, I knew that he had known from the beginning that it would happen like this. He had known, and he was ready. From the beginning, there had been only one way this could end. On some level, I think I had known it too. Slowly, I unclenched my hand from Charles' shirt, shoved him roughly away. He made a noise closer to a cowering dog than a man and I heard his legs fail him, heard him hit the floor. I didn't look down. "Quick, Edward." My animalistic rage had run its course and I was thinking again, too moral for my own good. He deserved to die, but he didn't have to suffer. His fear was enough.

He nodded, solemn.

I stepped away from Charles' shaking form on the floor, my shoulders sagging with the weight of the unexpected relief. "Get rid of the body, take it far from here. He can't be found. Their disappearance will be unexplained, and with any luck they won't search heavily for too long. We can hide her, leave in a few weeks when _our_ disappearance won't be suspicious."

I dropped from the window quickly, slipped into the woods already running at full speed. I knew what he was going to do, and that was enough. She was safe, and he would never touch her. It was enough to satisfy my desire to protect, and I no longer wanted any more information than that. I didn't want to hear.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

I paused outside her door, absently stroking the wood. I wanted desperately to go in, but I couldn't help the hesitation. My rage was entirely burned out, and everything else was hitting in its place. The relief was not quite enough to even out the darker parts. I needed her, an ache so powerful it was an actual physical pain. Still, I could bear it, if I had to. He had hurt her enough, and _I_ would not cause her any pain, now.

I sighed, leaned my forehead against the door. Maybe I could stay this close. Maybe that would be enough.

"Carlisle?" Her voice was small, frightened, and I gasped, surprised to find her awake.

There was no hope of resisting her when she called to me. "Yes." I hesitated perhaps a tenth of a second before I was opening the door, sliding into the darkness and shutting it again quickly. "How long have you been awake?"

She paused and I listened to her breath, the uneven nature of it. "Not too long." Her heart quickened. "Carlisle, please…"

I was there before she finished the word, my arms open for her. She could see me in the dark but she slid her hands up to my shoulders, pulled herself into my lap, curling almost into a ball, her arms tight around my neck and her head on my shoulder. My arms gripped her tightly, buried my face in her hair, careful of her wounds. Nothing needed to be said. I could feel her tears on my skin, feel her chest shaking with silent sobs. It would have been nice to be able to cry with her, to really feel tears of my own. My body was incapable, but that didn't mean I could not grieve. I held her, cried with her in the only way I could, my arms locking her to my own shaking chest.

Eventually I found some measure of calm, enough to comfort her, to rub her back, soothe her however I could. Slowly, I could feel her breath even, match with mine. Her lips found my neck, kissed skin that was damp from her tears. I sighed, brushed my thumb across the corner of her eye to wipe away a final tear.

"I…I heard you before, with Edward."

I tensed, my breath stopped.

"Did you…is he…" Her voice was small, lost, almost frightened but she didn't pull away.

"He is. But, no. No, I didn't. I couldn't. I'm sorry, Esme. I tried, I did, but I…" I shook my head, remembering all too well the horror that had come over me as I had seen the way I looked in his eyes. "I couldn't finish it."

She shifted a little in my arms, raised her head up to kiss my cheek. "I knew you couldn't. I knew it."

"I thought that, for you…" I had thought that for her, I could be stronger. I still wasn't sure I had made the right decision, even if this had felt better than the prospect of murder.

"You would do anything for me, Carlisle, I don't doubt that for a moment and neither should you." She nuzzled against me, kissed my cheek again. "But you're not a killer. You never could be, and that isn't a fault. It isn't. You're a good man. My angel." Her voice was a soft murmur, her lips still brushing against my skin. "Always my angel."

Her words warmed me as nothing else could, and I realized how very cold I had been for the past several hours. Yes, remaining her angel was worth it, was a greater prize than it would have been to kill him with my own hands. I kissed her forehead, rubbed her shoulder gently.

"Edward?"

She would know, even if I didn't tell her. "Yes." Not ready to discuss it, I changed the subject. "Are you hurting?"

"A little. But it's alright, it-"

"No, I'll get you something. I won't have you in pain." I eased her gently from my lap, went to the cabinet I had left the morphine in. "Here. Let me see your arm."

She sighed, reluctantly stretched her right arm out and into my grasp. "I've never liked shots you know."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'll do my best." Carefully, I slid the needle into the vein, injected as quickly as I could and pulled it out, my thumb ghosting across the tiny hole. "I'm sorry, love. Was that better, at least?"

"Mmhm." She sounded sleepy already, almost drifting. "Barely felt it. You're good."

I should be, as long as I had had to practice. And the beyond perfect vision certainly helped. "I'm glad." I moved to put the vial away but she grabbed weakly at my wrist and I froze, let her hold me still.

"Stay."

"Shh, I will. Just let me put this away. I'll lay down with you then, I promise." Her fingers slipped away, her fears eased. I marveled for a moment at the beauty of her absolute trust in me, a gift almost as great as her love, and one that was equally undeserved. As soon as I pulled her into my arms, she was asleep.

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Edited some typos and such...working on the new chapter now. : )


	16. Starting Over

Ok, as many of you have probably already figured out, everything from here on out will be AU….

Which means anything goes. : D And yes, I do already know exactly what's going to happen and yes, it changes things. But I hope you all enjoy it. And I do have a definite time line now, I sat down with my friend(who is awesome, and helps me with plotlines and such)and mapped it out. Looks like there's going to be 10-11 chapters left. And yes, I promise, it does end well. : )

Once again, thank you all so, so much for the amazing reviews! I seriously have the best readers ever.

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**Carlisle**

I jerked when the newspaper landed on my desk. I had been lost in thought, and the sudden breaking of the quiet was rather startling. I raised my eyes to see Edward standing before me, an unreadable expression on his face.

He gestured at the paper. "Read it. Bottom of the fourth page."

I pulled the paper toward me somewhat reluctantly and shook it open, eyes scanning. I already knew what I would find.

**_Official Search for Charles and Esme Evenson Ended by Madison Police_**

_Chief of Police Tracy Riding called off the search today for Charles Evenson and his wife, Esme. The Evenson's house burned down in a fire of unknown origin just over two months ago. The couple's bodies were never found, and it was initially hoped that they had survived the fire. However, no hint of their potential whereabouts could be discovered, and Mrs. Evenson's family has. According to the policehas no contact with her. According to a report filed this morning, Mr. and Mrs. Evenson are now presumed dead. A memorial service will be held at Forest Hill Cemetery this Saturday at noon._

So. They had finally given up. Well, we had known it would be only a matter of time. I didn't know where Edward had taken the body, and I didn't want to know, but I knew that Charles would never be found. Nor would Esme. I had spoken to the Chief of Police myself during the course of the investigation, and my ignorance about the events had not been questioned. My sorrow at their 'death' had appeared nothing but entirely genuine. The only one who knew that I had treated Esme the night of the fire was Betty, and Edward had spoken to her for me, reassured her that Esme was safe but did not want to be found. She was such a very kind old woman, and she had been wishing for Esme to be free of Charles for years. She was more than happy to keep her mouth shut. All in all, the incident was well behind us. No more Charles, no more investigations. The past was beginning to become just that. History.

But not for Esme. The depression that had fallen over her after losing her child had not lifted, and with every day that passed it frightened me more and more that even I could not lift her spirits. She seemed farther from me now than she ever had, even in our years apart. The distance terrified me, and found myself more and more often praying in desperation, serching for any idea as to what I should do.

I let the newspaper flutter quietly back onto the desk. "Thank you, Edward. At least we know they won't be looking for her anymore."

He brushed a few of my books aside, taking a seat on the edge of the desk. "You should go, you know. To the funeral."

"I know." As twisted as it was, I was still considered a friend of _his_. It was both disturbing and amusing, in a very dark way. "I'll go. But you'll have to stay here." With her. I didn't need to add that part, though. Of course he already knew that. She couldn't be left alone right now.

Even thinking of her for a moment brought on a sharp pain in my chest. I could see so clearly the haunted look her eyes had carried from the time she woke up until she fell asleep, usually only once she was exhausted. I could hardly get her to eat anything, either, and she was losing weight rapidly. She was far too thin, and altogether far too depressed. So much that so that it scared me, brought back that moment in her room after the night when she had asked me to stay, the moment where she had admitted however indirectly to considering taking her own life. Those minutes of fear were, undoubtedly, the worst of my life. The terror brought on by remembering them so clearly, by comparing the look in her eyes then to the look she had now…it was almost beyond comprehension.

"She'll be alright, Carlisle. She just needs-"

"Time. Yes, I know." But how much? I could not judge objectively, not in this case. How much time was normal and how much wasn't? What, if anything, could I possibly do? I was trying everything I could think of already. I had, initially, hardly left her side. I had, since then, tried giving her more time to herself, even though it pained me to leave her. I had discovered pretty quickly, though, that if anything that made her worse, and I was more than happy to stop. I left her only for work, and I had just been finishing the last of the paperwork for the day when Edward had come in. I could feel the ache and incessant worry pulling me up the stairs toward her and I let it take over, standing and easing toward the stairs.

Edward nodded, waving me on toward the stairs. "I brought her home some food. It's on the dresser, but she said she wasn't hungry." His voice dropped, low enough for only my ears. "I tried my best, with her. You might be more persuasive, but she needs to eat some of it. She really isn't looking good, Carlisle."

I bristled a little, resisted the urge to snap. There was no call for it, he was entirely right, and my anger would have been misplaced. She wasn't looking good, not at all, and I was furious only at myself because there was nothing I could do. Myself, and a dead man. As if that did me any good. I sighed, muttered the words under my breath. "I'll try, Edward, but I can't make her eat." Before he could say anything else, I slipped up the stairs and down the hall to my room, pausing outside the door. I took a deep breath, calmed my nerves a little before I turned the handle.

She was in bed, curled up on her side and looking out the window. She didn't move at the sound of the door opening or shutting, didn't move at all until I was in bed behind her, my body curving to fit hers as best I could. Even then, the signs of life were slight. Her hand curled around mine, joining our fingers together and she moved back against me just a little closer, her head now pillowed on my arm. "Carlisle."

I could feel my very skin warm, basking in that one almost-unchanged thing. She still said my name as if it were something utterly priceless, something she craved. I kissed her temple, gently. "My Esme. I'm sorry I was gone so long."

"Busy day today?"

"Mmhm. I've missed you." I could not have even begun to describe how true that was. She had, somehow, become more central to my existence than anything else. I needed her in the way I had once needed air, water. Anything essential. I could not go long without her before withdrawal set in. I fell silent, tried to determine how to best phrase begging her to eat something. The light from the fading sun threw itself sharply into the room, catching the back of the hand that was intertwined with hers.

A ghost of a smile touched her face and she brought her other hand over to trail across my skin, mesmerized. I realized, suddenly, that this was something she had never seen. "You sparkle."

Interest in anything, however faint, was definitely a plus. This was nothing compared to the reaction I would have gotten from her before, I knew, but it was more than enough to make me grin. "Yeah. I do. Look." I shifted, pushed the sleeve up on my arm and lay it back down in the path of the sunlight, my skin glittering like diamonds.

She traced up and back down to my hand with her fingertips, and I could see the tiniest glimmer of a spark in her eyes. "You're beautiful, you know."

"No, I'm nothing compared to you."

"Not true." Her fingers were still trailing over my skin, and despite my best efforts to remain focused only on her, I was enjoying the feeling far more than I should. She hadn't touched me as much, lately. It felt wonderful, like water after a long drought. I was dying to kiss her, but I had been so hesitant to. I wasn't sure if that was something she wanted, right now. "This is why you can't go out in the sun."

"Yes. I might stand out, just a little bit."

That drew another small smile, and I could feel my heart leap. "I'd like to see you out in it, some time."

"Of course." I nuzzled against her, tightened my hold. "Once we move, first sunny day we'll go out and enjoy it somewhere. Promise." Unfortunately, the sun was, at that point, falling over the buildings and taking the light with it. which left me as pale as death again, and her without something to draw her attention. I reached up to stroke a strand of hair away from her face, tucked it gently behind her ear. "Esme, love, you really should have some dinner. I'm sure Edward-"

"I'm just not hungry, Carlisle. Really."

She was never hungry anymore. So much so that I could feel her ribs far too acutely under her skin. Never hungry, always tired… I swallowed hard, tried to keep down the fear. It didn't work. "Esme…"

The panic was far more pronounced than I expected, but even then I didn't really expect her to respond. But she did. Instantly, she turned onto her back, reaching over to cradle my face in her hand, and I was honestly pleased to see the worry in her eyes because at _least_ it was an emotion. "Are you alright?"

Was I alright? No, I was dying, slowly. Seeing her like this was killing me, and my helplessness was torturing me along the way. But I had not told her that, not yet. I had masked it, told her I was fine, tried to keep my worry for her under control. We had thought that the best way, but I had tried everything else. There was nothing left to try, nothing but complete honesty. And I had hated lying to her anyway, even if it was for her own good. "No. No, I'm not." The spark of emotion I had seen in her eyes was still there, and I could see it deepen a little at my words. Well, that could, at this point, only be a good thing. I rushed forward, running solely on emotion. "I don't know what to do, Esme. I don't know what, if anything, I can do to help you. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, or right, or anything else and nothing seems to help for long and though I know I should have some perspective on the amount of time things take I can never be objective about you, not on anything. I-" My voice broke, and I closed my eyes, hoping that I could get it out easier without looking at her. "I feel like I'm losing you, and it terrifies me. But I want more than anything for you to be alright, to be yourself again…even just a start, anything at all. And I know you've wanted me here, but if that…if…if your life, now, would be easier without me…" Then I could do that. I might not could say it, but I could do it. I knew, from experience, that sometimes people had to start over in order to forget. If that was what she needed, I could back away. While it was true that she seemed marginally better while I was here, that could have been just because I was the only good thing in the midst of a great many horrible things. A fact that didn't mean a whole new life wouldn't be better. I wanted only for her to live, that was all, now. My mind kept replaying over and over again the facts of what I knew she was at least capable of considering, and no matter what she had promised me the threat was one I couldn't shake.

I felt her move, but still the feel of her lips against my eyelids shocked me. I froze, my breath caught in my chest. "I wouldn't have a life without you." I could feel her breath on my skin, warm, her lips so soft, and there was something in her voice that sounded almost as desperate as my own. Still, I could not open my eyes. "You saved me."

I sighed, my breath catching in my lungs once again when she pressed closer, her head nestling into the hollow of my throat. My arms tightened around her reflexively. "Yes, I did. Because I love you, and because I would do anything for you, anything you needed. Anything at all." Even if it included my absence. Anything, so long as she started looking more like the living and less like the dead.

"No, before that. Before this, when you first came back."

My eyes sprung open then, my attention focused. She kept her head buried against me, carefully not looking up.

"That night when you came back, when you met me in the park. Charles had only been back a few days and things with him were worse than ever. I had gone there to decide, and just before I saw you I had decided I couldn't bear it, I wouldn't do it anymore. I was…" She reached for my hand and I latched on, terrified of her next words. I knew what they would be. "I was going to jump from the cliffs near the quarry. I thought that would be easiest. I had already made up my mind, and I was sure of the decision. Until I saw you."

I clutched her close with the hand that wasn't holding hers, pinning her to me as desperately as I could. My breath was uneven, harsh, and I could not keep a thought for more than a second at a time. If I hadn't come back that night… If I hadn't gone for that walk… If I hadn't decided to speak to her… There had to be a hundred different 'if's', and each one of them would have ended her life, had things gone any differently. Even though it was over, I could hardly bear to think it. I spoke without even taking the time to realize what I was saying. "Please, please Esme, don't-"

Her lips brushed against mine, and though she probably meant it only as a light kiss I couldn't bear that, not now. I cupped her cheek in my hand and kissed her hungrily, my desperation only barely controlled. She responded readily, if a little more subdued than she normally would have been. When we parted I was ready to apologize but she stopped me, her fingers gently covering my lips. "Don't. You know what I promised you, and you should know by now that my word to you means more than my word to anyone else. And I wasn't trying to scare you, I only wanted you to know, to hear the whole truth. And to know that you truly did save my life, more than you know. And I don't ever want to live any of it without you, not ever again. I don't even like to think you've considered it."

"I didn't want to. It killed me, to think of it. And I'm sorry, that it bothered you, I just didn't know-"

She stopped me again, and I let her, without protest. Because looking into her eyes, now, I could see a little bit of _her_ in them, and though I knew how dangerous hope could be, it was taking root in my chest all the same. "I didn't know I was hurting you. I should have, but I wasn't thinking and I didn't…" Her eyes shone with tears and I instinctively nuzzled against her, comforting.

"Shh…I'm alright. I'm fine, love. Just worried about you."

"It's just…" She shook her head, pulled away from me to sit up against the headboard. She still kept one of my hands in hers and I moved with her, watching her. This looked promising. Like more than just signs of life. From the knowledge I had of dealing with victims of any sort of major loss or trauma, getting over the shock was the worst part. I _wanted_ her to get angry, to be upset, even cry if she needed to. She hadn't cried, not since that first day. She hadn't seemed to feel much of anything at all, until now. "I didn't want to marry him, even in the beginning. I was waiting for you to come back, even if I knew you wouldn't. But he kept at my parents until they made me, the three of them working together to force me into being his wife. I wanted to travel, at least to teach but he wouldn't let me do either, it wasn't 'my place'. I wanted a good marriage, friends, a life, but I saw quickly he wouldn't let me have any of that. I wanted him to die in the war, to never come home and give me a chance but he didn't, and he did come home, and the freedom I had thought I might get was gone. You came back, and I stayed with him, protected my family by hurting you, and now…" I could see the fury in her eyes, and though it was a side of her I hadn't really seen, I wasn't surprised. "Everything I ever wanted, he took away from me. Everything. Even this…this last thing that I didn't even know I wanted, until just before he took that away from me, too. Just like everything else, he took it all. And he left me with nothing, except the knowledge of everything I could have had, which hurts even worse than never having the chance at all."

Listening to her was heartbreaking, but I knew she had to get it all out, and I knew I shouldn't interrupt. Instead I pulled our hands into my lap, stroked gently across the back of hers.

"I know, it sounds stupid to say it isn't fair, but it seems almost cruel, to give me a baby and just time enough to love them, to hope that the four of us could be a family. Just enough time to think about it, to know just what I would be gaining and how much I wanted it before it was taken away. And as grateful as I am that that part of my life is over, now, I'm even angry at myself for how much I wanted it…" she sighed. "You're more than enough, and I shouldn't… But I can't help but want this, now. And I feel like I'm losing something all over again to realize it's something I can never have."

It hurt, but no more than I had expected. I had already beat myself up over this, and the point was already such a painful one that I doubted any more jabbing at it could really cause more damage. "You could, you know. If-"

"You didn't listen to me before, did you, Carlisle?" She had never sounded that close to angry when she had spoken to me before, and I dipped my head, chastised.

"Sorry. But you have to understand, Esme…I wanted this as much as you." I looked up again, and this time, our eyes locked. "In fact, I wish more than anything that I could give you exactly that, that we could have a child together. I want it so badly, and I mean that…desperately. In all my years I have never wanted to be human more than I have since that day we found out… It's what I wish most that I could give you, for both of us. I wish I could, and it hurts that I have to take something away from you, too." I winced internally at the thought, the way it sounded. She had been wrong, before. He had taken _almost_ everything. This last thing was mine to take, this last blow courtesy of my hands. No matter how hard I tried, I was hurting her too. Just by being with her, I was taking away from her the opportunity to give birth to a child.

"No." She moved, so quickly for a human. She was on my lap now, my face between her hands, her eyes dead serious. "No, you haven't taken anything away from me. You've given me everything. My life, a reason to live it. Your love, the greatest gift of all." She smiled, and I could feel a few pieces of my heart stitching back together. This was her real smile, the one I hadn't seen for months. I could hardly dare to believe it. "And, you've given me the chance to be a mother to Edward. A fact that means I should be mourning nothing, because I could have never wished for a better son. You're right, I do need to start a new life, but not one without you. It's my life _with_ you that I need to be ready to start." She leaned forward, rested her forehead against mine, her eyes closing. "I'm sorry I scared you."

Slowly, I eased my hands up her sides to rest over her ribs. The familiar panic clawed at me, told me she felt too thin but I shut it up, focused on the hope. "You're going to be alright?"

"Yes. I think so. I just had to…snap out of dwelling on it, for a minute. Stop drowning in all of it, so I could get some perspective…" She took a deep breath before she opened her eyes, and when she did, I could really see her in them. "You should have worried me sooner. That snapped me out of it quite well. Next time you think you're losing me, don't be afraid to panic."

"Not funny."

"No, you're right. It isn't." She slid closer to me, pressed her lips gently to mine. I needed no further encouragement. My arms locked around her, pulled her tight to my chest as we kissed, alternately slow and heated, as unsteady as a fire just starting to catch. When we broke apart to let her breathe I could feel her hands stroking the back of my neck, her lips still almost fully against mine, her breath ragged. She tried almost immediately to kiss me again but I turned, discouraging her.

Her eyes for a moment looked pained, and I fought back a frustrated groan. How could she even consider for a moment that I didn't want to continue? How could she even imagine it was anything less than torture for me to stop, especially when I had gone so long without having the taste of her, the feel of her touch? It would be slow, building her self esteem, but I knew I would have to do it even if it was my last act. I kissed the corner of her lips quickly, not trusting myself to be able to stop if I did anything else. "Believe me, Esme, I want nothing more than to keep this up all night."

"Then-"

"But you need to eat something." And this would be the test. If she was really going to start improving, eating had to be part of it. I stroked her cheek, traced my thumb across her lips. "Please? For me? Just something, it doesn't have to be much." _Please, please…_

She looked down, but I could a little bit of a smile tugging at her lips. "Edward did say he brought some Chinese food from a vender he found today. "

The relief was almost weakening. "Yes. Rather popular lately, from what I've heard."

"Alright, then. I guess I am a little hungry."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

_Edward, I know I'm asking you this for the hundredth time, but-_

"Yes, I'm sure this is a good idea." He rolled his eyes, smirking at me. "Any more nervous, Carlisle, and I'd think you didn't want- Ok, ok, I'm only kidding."

I toned down my glare but couldn't help still fidgeting with the box in my pocket. I hadn't been able to keep my hands off it since I'd picked it up. The wind blew forcefully, then, and I took a deep breath of it, loving the smell of spring. It had been so long since I'd spent any appreciable amount of time outside. My hunts had been so very short lately.Time at home had simply been far too important.

Much to my delight, Esme had continued to improve over the past two weeks. Her color was coming back, and she even had an appetite now without being continually encouraged. She was responding to me now almost as happily as she had before, and seeing her genuinely smile again was enough to make me almost delirious with happiness. Still, I wasn't sure if-

"Good God, Carlisle, calm down! Out of the two of us, which one can hear her mind? Hm? I'm telling you, you want to do this."

Well, yes, _I _wanted to, but that didn't mean-

"You're hopeless. Truly hopeless."

_Thanks, Edward._ His grin only widened. We were at the door, now, and he wheeled around, facing me.

"I'm going to make sure everything's in order, paperwork and such. We should be good to leave this weekend."

I nodded absently. "Yes, fine."

"I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"Yes."

"Do you want longer?"

I stepped inside, shutting the door on him. It was less effective at keeping at his laughter, but I did my best to ignore that. I shrugged out of my coat, hanging it on a peg by the door as I listened. There was rustling around in the kitchen, and I followed the sound, leaning quietly against the doorway. She stood at the stove, sliding in a tray that appeared to be holding cookies of some kind. As if she could feel my eyes on her, she turned almost immediately, her own eyes widening.

"Carlilse!" I smiled at the joy in her voice and nodded, held my arms open for her as she crossed the room and buried into them. Looking up at me, she reached one hand up to trail under my eyes, and I knew she had seen the growing darkness of the circles there the night before. "You went hunting."

"Yes, this morning."

"Feel better?"

"Even more so, now that I'm home." I kissed her forehead swiftly, brushed some flour away from her cheek. "I see you're baking."

She blushed a little. "I thought I'd try. I haven't had homemade cookies in years. They'll turn out terribly but…" She shrugged. "comfort food, something I never had the chance to learn how to do. Worth a shot, at least."

"I'm sure they'll be wonderful." And if I could have tried one and honestly appreciated it, I would have offered. "They're going to be cooking for awhile?" She nodded, a little curious. "Alright. Come with me, then."

I led her upstairs, to the room that had been mine but was now more hers. _Ours_ sounded better, but implied more than we had done. No matter how much I might have sometimes wished that were different. I sat down with her on the edge of the bed, her hands held easily in mine. I could see the worry in her eyes, and she questioned me before I could even reassure her.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything's fine. Nothing's wrong." I smiled for her, pulled her left hand up to my lips to kiss it. "I just wanted to talk to you about something." She said nothing, and I took it as a sign to continue. "Esme, love, I know this is…still perhaps not the best timing, but at the same time, I think it could be." Why, why did I feel so dizzy? So nervous? Edward had said, after all, that this was a good idea. And I should trust his judgment beyond all doubt, by now. I took a deep breath and started again. "But especially with the move, everything will be different from here on. We've been living in secret for so long…" I trailed off again, losing my track. I had known, earlier, exactly what I was going to say. Somehow, it all kept slipping away from me. I looked up, fell into those beautiful green eyes. The love I could see there overwhelmed everything else, even the fear. I was not uncertain anymore. "I promised you, once, that we would make it through that other life, that I would always be there for you, give you everything I could. There are some things I can't offer you, and I'm more sorry for that than I could ever say. But I _will_ give you everything within my power, and I will love you for all of eternity. I also promised you that you would, one day, be my wife, but really I shouldn't have said it like that. That's a choice I don't have the right to make, one that is entirely up to you." My eyes never leaving hers, I slid fluidly to one knee, pulled the box from my pocket. "Esme, beloved, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"

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: D

That was a big scene…I dearly hope I did it justice.

Oh, and….

Just an interesting fact: when I was researching cemeteries in Madison, I wanted to make sure I found one old enough so I was checking a few. When I got to the this webpage for the Forest Hill one, the second name on the page was for a Henry Cullen that died in 1906…now I know that that could have happened anywhere, but I found it weird/strange/cool in a very odd way. And I knew I had to use that one. lol


	17. Getting Ready

I can just never get enough of writing these two. Not ever. (Does that make C&E my brand of heroin? O.0 LOL)

So I should be studying for a test right now…well it's sort of a quiz…but because I know I'd be procrastinating anyway, writing is SO much more fun.

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**Esme**

I was, for a moment, stunned into silence.

That didn't last long. Before I could even realize I had moved I was in his arms and he was shifting to sit back on the floor, holding me close to his chest. I had his face in my hands kissing every inch I could reach, and I could feel tears slipping from the corners of my eyes.

I felt his chest shake a little with soft laughter, and his hands came up to my cheeks to guide my lips to meet his own. His kiss was warm and sweet at first, though his intentions were soon overwhelmed by my enthusiasm. I couldn't help it. He was panting, grinning when he pulled back. "I take it you accept?"

I laughed, a strange sound mixed with a soft sob. "You're right."

His smiled softened, became unbearably tender. He cradled me close, bringing my head to rest against his shoulder. His lips brushed against my cheeks, tasting the tears there. "Shh, love, don't cry. Don't cry. Everything's going to be wonderful now; I promise you."

"I _know_, Carlisle. Which is why I'm crying."

He laughed again, unable to stop smiling even for a moment. "Oh, Esme…" I sighed at the feel of his breath against my damp skin, nestled closer to him. "You didn't even really look at your ring, did you?" His voice was slightly amused, mock hurt.

I could feel my eyes light up, curiosity rising. "No! I didn't. Let me see!"

He chuckled again, pulled the box up from where he had set it on the floorboards to open it in front of my eyes, flipping it open with one hand. For a moment, I was mesmerized enough I was certain I stopped breathing. It was positively stunning. Simple but elegant, a fairly thin white gold band with a glittering square diamond in the center, not too large but not too small. Perfectly sized, framed on either side by two small, round sapphires. Positively breathtaking. "Carlisle…where did you get this?"

He shrugged, evasive. "I, ah…had to order it. Didn't take them long to get it here, though. I was impressed."

"Do I want to know where from?"

He kissed my temple, fingertips stroking my cheek. "You'll still love it even if you know. Perhaps more." I opened my lips to tell him there was no _way_ I could love it more but he covered my mouth, his touch soft. "New York City."

I sighed, reach out to stroke the metal band in the box. "It's beautiful. Thank you, Carlisle."

He jolted slightly, turned me around on his lap lightning fast. "You have my thoughts all scrambled." He was mumbling, his lips still against my hair. "I just wasn't thinking." He pulled the ring out, positioned my hand comfortable in his and slid the ring on. As tempted as I was to watch him do it, I watched his eyes. He was absolutely glorious. Eyes dancing, he slid his thumb across the stone on my finger. "A perfect fit. And I believe it suits you."

"Yes, you did well."

He squeezed me gently, eyes still on the ring on my finger. "Somehow, I must have, in order to get you to say yes…"

I sighed, mock frustrated. "You know, I've been ready to say 'yes' to your proposal since the first day I met you. So that part shouldn't be a surprise." My tone softened, turned serious. "I've been waiting for this moment since I was 16 years old. How could I ever say anything but yes?" Unless it was 'Yes, please!'.

He sighed, kissed the spot where my neck and shoulder met. "I'm sorry, Esme. I _should_ have asked you then, before I even left town. I was already more than certain you were the only woman I would ever love. But you were so young, and I was leaving so very soon…"

"You know I would have said yes to you, no matter how young I might have been. I knew I wanted to be with you." I turned sideways in his arms, wrapped my arms around his neck. He looked pained, and I kissed the corner of his eye, nuzzled against him. "Stop it, Carlisle. It doesn't matter now."

"We could have had-"

I covered his lips, shook my head. "We're together now. We have forever."

He smiled at that, slightly. "Yes. You're right."

It was then that it hit me, and it seemed so ridiculous that I hadn't thought of it until this moment. As things stood, we didn't have forever, not really. _He_ had forever, he and Edward. I, on the other hand, had only the human equivalent of forever. I was going to die, someday. I was going to leave him, and he had not even brought it up. Not once. I felt stupid, thinking of it only now. Perhaps because he _acted_ so human it was incredibly easy to forget that he wasn't. His cold skin, his eyes, his speed, even his hunting, all those were things to which I had become quickly adjusted. For him they were normal, and they had become so normal to me that I never dwelled on what he was, never gave it much thought. Now…

He trailed his finger down the thoughtful crease between my eyes, his expression slightly concerned. "What's wrong?"

I smiled for him, leaned in to give him a quick kiss. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Everything's perfect."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Are either of you going to tell me where we're going any time soon?" I _thought_ I did a good job of pretending to be sufficiently angry, but when Edward laughed I knew it wasn't that effective.

He reached out and ruffled my hair with one hand, his other swinging around to pull my bag away from me and throw it in the back of the Ford. "Esme. You know Carlisle wants it to be a surprise."

I sighed, reached to pick up my last bag only to realize that he was, of course, much too fast. "I could have done some of the loading myself, you know."

"Not when you have two men around to do it for you, you can't. " He grinned mischievously, picked me up and set me down in the back seat.

I couldn't help but laugh at that, my annoyance dissolving. Everything was far too wonderful to worry about something as inconsequential as where we were moving. I was with Carlisle and Edward for good now, as a family, and we were getting out of here and leaving all of this behind us. Soon, Carlisle would be my husband and we have a new home, a new life entirely. Nothing could possibly dampen my happiness. "It doesn't have to be a surprise, you know. I'll be excited no matter where we're going."

"But Edward's not going to tell you, are you Edward?" Carlisle had just stepped out of the door, his back still to us as he locked it for the last time.

Edward chuckled as he climbed into the driver's seat. "No, but she is a persistent one, Carlisle."

"Yes, I figured that out some time ago." Carlisle crossed to the car and hesitated, finally deciding to climb in the back with me. He opened his arms for me, smiling. "Are you annoyed with me, or can I hold you?"

"Mmm…" I tortured him for maybe a second, pretending to be indecisive. As if I could ever resist him. I snuggled against him, my head against his shoulder and my hand over his silent heart. "Yes to both." I kissed his shoulder, breathed in his scent. I had not even been separated from him a half hour and already I had been aching for him. I needed him in a way I had never imagined needing anyone. "I am annoyed that you won't tell me where we're moving, but I _always_ want you to hold me."

"I always will." His arms tightened around me, his voice muffled from the way his lips were pressed against my hair.

Edward rolled his eyes in our direction, though he was grinning. "Alright you two, are we ready to go?"

"Yes." Carlisle spoke softly, one hand trailing through my hair. "I know I'm ready to get out of here, aren't you?"

I nodded, closed my eyes. "And I'd rather not come back, not unless we have to."

"We don't. There are plenty of other places we can go, don't worry."

I stroked his chest the way I knew he liked, nestled closer against him. "Places such as…"

"You're cheating."

"Mmhm." I raised my head just enough to kiss his neck, smiled at the sharp intake of breath that followed. "Such as…?"

He took a deep breath, gently lay his palm against my cheek. "Rochester, New York. I think you'll like it there, and it's in the east, farther than Ohio but I think you'll-"

I cut him off with a kiss. "I'll love it. Thank you." I curled my hand into his shirt again, my eyes falling on the ring I could hardly stop staring at. "And…" I blushed, unsure how to ask him this. Still, I didn't want to wait, really…

"Yes, love? Something else?" I could hear the humor in his voice, though, and I knew he understood. I said nothing, and he didn't make me wait long. His lips pressed against my ear, his whisper soft. "As soon as you like."

My breath caught, head almost spinning. If he kept doing that, I wouldn't be responsible for any decisions I made. "Now. Today."

I felt his chest shake with silent laughter, and he shook his head. "We could, certainly, if you wanted…but wouldn't you rather have a church wedding? A proper dress…"

And I could tell, by the way the talked, that that was exactly what he wanted. A real wedding, especially the sanctity of having it in a church. But… "Who on earth would come? We know no one and I don't…I don't really want to wait, but…"

He stroked my cheek, kissed my forehead. "Esme, love, we don't have to invite anyone but Edward, not if you don't want. We could still do the church part, though. The clothes, the tradition."

I could see it in my mind, just what he was describing. An beautiful old church, empty but for the three of us, the preacher, and a single musician. It was quiet, intimate, still somehow traditional and beautiful. Yes, I would like that very much. I had had a big wedding the first time around, huge, spectacular. The glamour of it, the size of the guest list…none of that had anything to do with having a happy wedding, a happy marriage. Not to say that I wouldn't have _enjoyed_ showing Carlisle off as mine, but I didn't want to wait until we knew people in the city well enough to invite them to a wedding. I was ready to marry him _now_, as soon as possible. Nothing else mattered. But still… "I would like that very much, yes. But Carlisle, that's-"

He covered my lips, smiled his most dazzling smile. "Nothing is too expensive for you. Besides, it won't be too much."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

Even now, days after he had asked me, no part of the excitement had dimmed in the slightest. I grinned, looked up at him. "We're really getting married."

His happiness mirrored my own, his soft golden eyes brilliant. "Yes. We really are."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

I turned around in the mirror, examining the dress for what probably felt like to Edward the millionth time.

He chuckled at that, moved to lean against the wall closer to the mirror. "I'm just wondering how many ways you need to look at it. You look lovely, by the way."

"You'd say that no matter what it looked like, Edward, so I'm sorry but your vote doesn't count for much." This one was gorgeous though, and I was more certain every moment that it was the one I would end up with. It was smooth white satin, almost-silver beads form an intricate design in front. Lace fringed the edges , hanging just far enough to barely brush the floor and give a small train behind. It really was beautiful.

"Yes. I promise you, he'll love it. Of course, to be perfectly honest you could walk out there in anything at all. Just seeing you thrills him, every time. Seeing you marrying him…" He laughed, his head shaking. "He'll be ecstatic, I promise."

I could feel my heart warm at his words, a smile creeping across my face. Yes, I was going to go with this one. I like it, and Edward was right. Carlisle would like any of them. I slid back into the changing room, began to maneuver my way out of the dress. "Thank you for coming with me, Edward."

"Of course."

Carlisle had begged and pleaded to come dress shopping with me but I had somehow been able to resist his burning eyes, telling him that the groom was absolutely not allowed to see the dress before the wedding. He really hadn't liked that, but I had been able to comfort him by saying we wouldn't be long. That had been, of course, five hours ago. This was harder than I would have expected.

I heard Edward's soft chuckle outside the door. "Harder than I expected as well. They're all white, mostly the same. I would say it isn't very hard."

I rolled my eyes though he couldn't see, knowing he'd pick it up in my thoughts. "Harder than you'd think. Speaking of which, you're going to make sure Carlisle gets a good tux aren't you?"

"I'm sure his judgment is better than mine, but I'll go with him, yes."

I finished dressing and handed the wedding dress to Edward, waited for him by the door while he paid and arranged a time for picking it up, later. In moments he was by my side again and we were on the sidewalk on the way home, and I realized that this was the first real time alone I had had with Edward since we had moved in. The house in Rochester was lovely, a beautiful two story Victorian home with a wraparound porch on both levels. Positively beautiful, and we had spent the past two weeks settling in. Actually, I had spent most of it helping Carlisle set up his clinic. The work was interesting for me, I had never had the opportunity to help him much before. Now, he had said I might could assist with a few things, if I wanted. All of that, though, had kept us busy and Carlisle was always at the very least close by. There was a conversation I wanted very badly to have with Edward, and I didn't want him to overhear.

Edward slowed his walk, inched just a little closer to me. "Esme, you can ask me anything. You know that."

I bit my lip, thinking. I want to, yes, but how to even start a conversation like this…

"What is it? Something about Carlisle?"

Well, sort of. My thoughts betrayed me then, flickering to our conversation the morning he had proposed, the statements that had started me thinking.

I felt Edward tense beside me, heard him suck in a sharp breath. "Ah. I see."

Yes. I took a deep breath, tried to make sure my voice would be calm when I spoke. "Edward, how do…how do you become…" I couldn't say the word, not here on the streets but I knew he knew what I meant. Still, I finished the question in my mind. _Is it just a…a bite?_ I knew he had been worried about his teeth, before. And, that was how it always happened in stories, wasn't it?

"You're both right and wrong. Yes, it is…how you thought. But it isn't as simple as that. It is extremely difficult, for both involved." He hesitated, and I could see him trying to decide how to phrase it while we were still in public. "It would be extremely painful for you. Three days of it."

I swallowed, nodded. I could handle pain, if it meant getting to stay with Carlisle forever.

"And it is…difficult, for him. Although, it's much easier for him because of who he is than it would be for anyone else."

I couldn't help but smile at that, some of my nerves leaving me at the thought of my Carlisle, my gentle soul. I could understand how it would be difficult, but of course my angel had no desire for my blood. He never had. But the mechanics was really only part of the question, and I let Edward sift through my thoughts for the other parts.

"Would he?" His voice was lower now, very hesitant. "Esme, I don't…I don't know. I believe so, if you asked him to. He would never offer; he would think he was pressuring you, taking something away from you. But if you wanted it…" He shrugged. "If you wanted it, if you were certain, I believe he would." Suddenly his hand shot out, grasping mine. "But you don't have to do this, Esme, you don't have to be like us. You're perfect as you are. He doesn't care."

His eyes were burning, pleading, and for a moment that stung. He didn't want-

"No, that isn't it at all. Of course I want you around." He smiled then, crooked and gentle. "Don't you think I love the idea of having a mother again? Of being a family, of keeping you? Of course I do. I…" he sighed, looked away again and down the street. Home was right, but he looked left, looked back at me with a question in his eyes.

_Yes, I'd rather keep walking. We're not done yet._

He nodded, and we headed toward the park. "Esme, I will forever be grateful to Carlisle for what he did for me. I was dying in that hospital, and without him I certainly could never have survived. I am thankful, truly. But all the same…if I had had a choice, if I had been alive, healthy…" he shook his head, eyes downcast. "I do not believe this is the life I would have chosen." He hesitated again, pinched the bridge of his nose in concentration. "I don't know how much Carlisle has told you about his own faith, but he is very certain that God gives up on no one, not even our kind. It's…a nice thought, but I can't believe it. We are, by nature, killers, murderers. In essence the living dead, against nature. By all accounts, we are among the damned." He sighed, shook his head. "No, I certainly don't regret it. Not for me. I'm no fool, I'd rather be living than dead. But for _you_…" He took my hand again, his touch gentle, his eyes burning once more. "You have your whole life ahead of you. You don't need to do this, to make this choice. It's not one or the other. You can be human, and you can stay with us. Everything will be alright."

Everything he had said was certainly a lot to think about, but not a lot to consider. And yes, there was a clear distinction. In this choice, there were only two things to consider. First and foremost, the fact that I would not leave Carlisle alone. And second, the fact that now that I had realized it was possible, I wanted nothing more than to never have to leave his side, to be with him always. I had been willing to take my own life once, before, and while I was no longer suicidal even the thought of hell had no real effect on me. I was not afraid of it. I had been raised Catholic, and every priest I had ever heard speak swore that those who took their own life were damned. I had planned to join them. Clearly here, there was dissention at least. Carlisle might be right. Either way, I was not afraid.

I could see the sorrow in his eyes, the regret. "I'm sorry if my reluctance upsets you. Do not think for a moment it has anything to do with having you around, I swear it. I only wish, for your sake, you would reconsider."

I brought to mind Carlisle's face, the light in his eyes as I had lain in his arms the night before. Then, in contrast, the look of utter agony when he had heard me speak of my plans, when he had thought of losing me. I could feel Edward shudder, and edged closer to him. "See?" My voice was whisper soft, calm. "It hurts you too, seeing him like that. It would only be worse, if he actually lost me." It was amazing, being the one thing it would hurt him most to lose. Amazing, and a great responsibility. I would not hurt him. Not now, not ever. Not only that, but we would be together forever. For me, there was no downside.

Edward sighed, stopped and put his arms around me, kissed my forehead. "In the end, it is your choice. But I can't tell you that I think you should, or that I want you to. I'm sorry, but I can't."

"I know. I understand." I smiled, held his face in my hands. _Thank you, Edward, for worrying about my soul. It means a great deal more to me than I could ever tell you. _

He smiled, a little sad. "Even if it doesn't do any good?"

"Yes. Even then."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

I knocked on his door softly, knowing he would have heard it if I had so much as touched it.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to see you tonight." I grinned, pressed against the door, closer to the source of that beautiful, velvet voice.

"Yes, well…I'm lonely."

"Well, we can't have that now, can we?" I could hear both amusment and relief in his voice and he opened the door, swiftly pulling me into his arms…all the way into his arms. I giggled as he scooped me up, carried me to the bed. He tucked us both in, wrapping his body around mine from behind and nuzzling against my neck when he was finished. "This is _much_ better; you have no idea. I was staring at the wall."

I pulled his hand to my lips, kissed his palm. "I wasn't doing much better, I was staring at the ceiling. And missing you terribly."

He kissed my neck, sighed happily. "And I was missing you. I'm glad you decided to come to me."

"I should have known I wouldn't be able to stay away." I turned in his arms, just enough to tangle my fingers in his hair and pull him in for a thorough kiss. I tugged gently on his lower lip, pulled it between my own. He groaned softly, slid his hand down my side to rub against my hip. Far too soon, he pulled away.

"We shouldn't. My self control is…not what it once was." He smiled, and I could see the eager light in his eyes. "The closer I am to being your husband, the more my will to wait seems to slip."

I traced his cheek, softly. "You'll be my husband by tomorrow night."

He growled softly. "Yes. I will." His smiled was proud, exhilarated. "And it can't come soon enough. But for now…" He wrapped his arm around my waist again, kissed my forehead. "You should sleep."

"I don't know if I can."

"You should." His voice dipped lower, more seductive. "Before tomorrow…"

I shivered, pressed closer to him. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I would, after so many years, finally be marrying my angel. And tomorrow night… I shivered again, pulled his arms tighter around me. "Alright." I whispered the word, kissed his hand once more. "I'll try to sleep."

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:sigh: the way I love the two of them together is just beyond words. They are just incredible.


End file.
